The Duke went red.
'Silly, did you say?' Masklin leaned backwards to get out of his-way, but he'd been brought up to be honest. He felt be wasn't bright enough to get away with lies.
Well-' he began.
'Have you never heard of honour?' said the Duke. Masklin thought for a while, and then shook his head.
'The Ironmongri want to take over the whole Store,' said Angalo hurriedly. 'That would be a terrible thing. And the Millineri are nearly as bad.' 'Why?' said Masklin.
'Why?' said the Duke 'Because they have always been our enemies. And now you may go,' he added.
'Where?' said Masklin.
'To the Ironmongri, or the Millineri. Or the Stationeri, they're just the people for you. Or go back Outside, for all I care,' said the Duke sarcastically.
'We want the Thing back,' said Masklin stolidly.
The Duke picked it up and threw it at him.
'Sorry,' said Angalo, when they had got away.
'I should have told you father had rather a temper.' 'What did you go and upset him for?' said Grimma irritably. 'If we've got to- join up with someone, why not with him? What happens to us now?' 'He was very rude,' said Granny Morkie stoutly.
'He'd never heard of the Thing,' said Torrit. 'Terrible, that is. Or Outside. Well, I was borned and bred outside. Ain't no dead people there. Not living in any splendour, anyway.' They started to squabble, which was fairly usual. Masklin looked at them. Then he looked at his feet. They were walking on a sort of short dry grass that Angalo had said was called Carpet. Something else stolen from the Store above.
He wanted to say: this is ridiculous. Why is it that as soon as a nome has all he needs to eat and drink he starts to bicker with other nomes? There must be more to being a nome than this.