Frida Kahlo Diego and I

Frida Kahlo Diego and IDouglas Hofmann ModelDouglas Hofmann Jessica sorts of places. Sto Lat, Pseudopolis . . . Ankh-Morpork, of course . . . ."
"But the river goes there," said Esk, reasonably. "Barges. The Zoons."
"Ah, yes," said the merchant, "but they charge high prices and they can't carry everything and, anyway, no one ?"
"Well, are they supposed to have little white worm things in them?"
"Fiftysev - what?" The merchant lowered his slate and stared at Esk, "What little worms?"
"Wriggly ones. White," added Esk, helpfully. "All sort of burrowing about in the middle trusts them much." "But they're very honest!" "Huh, yes," he said. "But you know what they say: never trust an honest man." He smiled knowingly. "Who says that?" "They do. You know. People," he said, a certain uneasiness entering his voice. "Oh," said Esk. She thought about it. "They must be very silly," she said primly. "Thank you, anyway." He watched her wander off and got back to his counting. A moment later there was another tug at his coat. "Fiftysevenfiftysevenfiftysevenwell?" he said, trying not to lose his place. "Sorry to bother you again," said Esk, "but those bale things ...." "What about them fiftysevenfiftysevenfiftyseven