Jack Vettriano Mr Cool

Jack Vettriano Mr CoolJack Vettriano Models in the StudioJack Vettriano Models in the Studio II
the state of his own bedding, 'white as some sheets–’
The Patrician glanced at his reports while the beggar talked. It had certainly been a strange evening. A riot at the Drum . . . well, that was normal, although it didn't sound exactly like a typical riot and he'd never heard of wizards dancing. He rather felt he recognized the signs . . . There was only one thing that could make it worse.
'Tell me,' he said. . Feel free to leave.'
The beggar hesitated.
'Foul Ole Ron said as yerronner sometimes pays for information,' he said.
'Did he? Really? He said that, did he? Well, that is interesting.' Vetinari scribbled a note in the margin of a report. 'Thank you.''What was Mr Dibbler's reaction to all this?''What, yerronner?''A simple enough question, I should have thought.'Cumbling Michael found the words 'But how did you know ole Dibbler was there? I never said' arranging themselves for the attention of his larynx, and then had second, third and fourth thoughts about saying them.'He just sat and stared, yerronner. With his mouth open. And then he rushed right out.''I see. Oh, dear. Thank you, Cumbling Michael