“You wanted me, Commander?” said Cheri. “Oh, yes. Is this arsenic?” said Vimes, handing her the packet. Cheri sniffed at it. “It could be arsenous acid, sir. I’ll have to test it, of course.” “I thought acids sloshed about in jars,” said Vimes. “Er . . . what’s that on your hands?” “Nail varnish, sir.” “Nail varnish?” “Yes, sir.” “Er . . . fine, fine. Funny, I thought it would be green.” “Wouldn’t look good on the fingers, sir.” “I meant the arsenic, Littlebottom.”
