Timothy Michaelmas-Daisy peeped through the curtains at the view of The Dame making her announcement to the wall of TV cameras and press photographers and reporters massed on the other side of Downing Street, while the PM's words were relayed through the TV in the Cabinet Office; Sir Wilfred Heath-Robinson and his assistant, Quentin Quibb, stood on either side of him: "why the fuck is she ending the Postcode Lottery?" asked Quentin, furiously: "we've got a Standing Order, everyone in the building takes part, she can't do that!" but Sir Wilfred pat a restraining hand on his junior's arm: "don;'t be such an aginer," he soothed, "she means something else," and Tim said: "all that about consilience, we know that when she asks for compromise, it only applies to others, she wants everyone to compromise with her!" and Sir Wilfred laughed: "did you notice lads," he said, pouring them each a generous measure of Laphroaig, "there's a very apposite wording to her resignation, a touch of gainpain in it – she's resigning as Leader of the Party, but not Prime Minister, yet! quick Quentin, play it back on the TV and we'll check; and anyway, she's promised lots of things on definite dates over the past couple of years, and they come and go and a new date is promised, so don't take down the bunting quite yet! so, you're still Secretary of State, Tim, better pop next door and offer her a hankie for those tears at the end!"