Staying late at the Times office made William feel a touch conflicted; on the one hand, it was almost like old times,1 back in Ankh-Morpork, working into the evening on an edition
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"Never better," she said, looking up from the small book tucked inside the slightly larger book she'd been pretending to read for a while, and smiled back at him.
"Humming quietly with the warm feel-good glow of doing my duty for the public good. And my private good, to boot. You know, this coppering isn't all that bad."
"Isn't it? Well, I daresay the absence of crime helps a bit," William said. He absently scrawled 'warm feel-good glow of doing my duty for the public good' in a margin in case he ever needed it.
"Actually, I'd have a substantially brighter glow if I could knock a few ne'er do well heads together, but that might be the old penchant for mild and morally excusable violence talking. Difficult to say." She set her books down in her lap.
"Trying to organize the Dinosaur Rampage stories," William said, moving bits of pieces around, frowning at them, then peering at his laptop screen and moving something around there.
Then he did it all in reverse. "Of which there are quite a few, all intertwined. It makes it complicated," he murmured, glancing at the still silent radio for a moment before going back to what he was doing.
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"Humming quietly with the warm feel-good glow of doing my duty for the public good. And my private good, to boot. You know, this coppering isn't all that bad."
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"What are you working on now?"
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Then he did it all in reverse. "Of which there are quite a few, all intertwined. It makes it complicated," he murmured, glancing at the still silent radio for a moment before going back to what he was doing.
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