"Are you concentrating?"
The question shook Rufus out of his reverie. "Oh, yes. Of course, my lord," he answered quickly
"Good," said the Patrician coolly. "I'd hate to think you weren't writing on my desk on purpose."
Rufus looked down and, to his horror, saw that he had forgotten to place a notebook under his quill. "Oh! My lord, I... Oh!"
The Patrician sighed. "Oh, come on, then."
Vetinari smiled drily, and it took an expert, or a very experienced personal clerk, to catch the hint of warmth in his tone when he next spoke. "You were staring at my hands." Rufus had; and he realized it had been silly to imagine he had been inconspicuous about it. "So I can answer your question: yes. Yes, they could."
Sometimes, Rufus thought as they both stood up, and met coming around the desk in a collision of mouths and thighs, sometimes he had no objection at all to Vetinari's mind-reading.