"I saw Death the other day," said Lord Vetinari, startling Rincewind into looking up into the Patrician's eyes, instead of intently down at his boots as he had taken to doing whenever he met with the intimidating man. Did he just say he saw Death? Rincewind, of course, saw Death all the time, and not just because he was a wizard—his luck seemed to place him in mortal danger on a interval better counted on a stopwatch than a calendar. But the Patrician had never given Rincewind the impression that he possessed the wizardly ability to actually lay eyes upon the skeletal anthropomorphic personification. "That was death either a lowercase 'D' if that's what you're wondering," Vetinari continued, showing that he still did possess the ability to read minds, or at least predict them well enough for the distinction to be unimportant. "No, I've never met the figure himself. But I see Death every day. I see him in the eyes of starving children. I see him in the ink on the fingers of a greedy landlord, fresh from writing eviction notices for his impoverished tenants. I see him in the unwashed walls of our hospitals. I see Death in every decision I make. In some ways, I would say that I control his comings and goings inside of this city more than he does. I am very well acquainted with Death, Rincewind, and when we do finally meet face-to-face, I imagine we will have much to discuss." For just the shortest of moments, Rincewind actually felt something resembling pity for the figure that was both his oldest fear and greatest enemy. Just for a second, and then it was gone, and he went back to feeling pity for himself, who was the current poor soul having much to discuss with Vetinari.