Thief of Time - Cold

The shop's clocks were putting up a barrage of noise to signal the passing of seven o'clock when Igor opened the front door. It always Did to anticipate the knock. That was another part of the Code of the Igors.

He wrenched it open. 'Two pints, sir, lovely and fresh,' said Mr Soak, handing him the bottles. 'And a day like this just says fresh cream, doesn't it?'

Igor glared at him, but took the bottles. 'I prefer it when it'th going green,' he said haughtily. 'Good day to you, Mr Thoak.' He shut the door.

'It wasn't her?' said Jeremy, when he arrived back in the workshop. 'It wath the milkman, thur.'

'She's twenty-five seconds late!' said Jeremy, looking concerned. 'Do you think anything could have happened to her?'

'Real ladieth are often fathionably late, thur,' said Igor, putting the milk away. It was icy cold under his fingers.

***

The Thief of Time - 150-151