"I'm to become secretary?" The question is cheerful. He imagines Gardiner's face, that look as if he's fighting back bile. Cromwell hopes there is no secretary between them.

Is he to become a lord as well? The thought is strange to him. He is the blacksmith's son, as Wolsey was the butcher's. It would suit Gregory, though, the security and leisure that can come with a title. He, Cromwell, cannot help but expect he would keep scrabbling for something more.