Dee and Kellet have come to blows at last, over, naturally, the royalties for the book. “Autolycus!” hisses Dee, his voice echoing off the tiles of the natatorium.
“Gestas!” bellows Kellet, and shoves Dee’s head under the water.
They both try to call on Enoch to judge between them, but xie doesn’t want to get involved. The angel’s perched up in a corner of the balneator’s office, watching the fight unfold. “Tragic, really,” xie mutters to Mister Boots. Mister Boots keeps his own council, and pretends to concentrate on grooming his tail, but his eyes take in everything. Mister Boots is canny, and doesn’t get paid enough to get involved in this kind of rumpus. Casaubon’s going to be very interested, though — very interested, indeed.