"Well, it's a grand thing to have the royal mandate in one's pocket, isn't it? My father, too, received a royal mandate...."
"Pardon me, dear brother, but I've only been appointed."
"Appointed or royal mandate, it comes to the same thing. Don't teach me! My father, too, had a royal mandate...."
"I assure you...."
"Assure me—what d'you mean by that? D'you mean to imply that I'm standing here telling lies? Tell me, do you mean to say that I'm lying?"
"Of course I don't! There's no need to lose your temper like that!"
"Very well! You're admitting that I'm not telling lies, consequently you have a royal mandate. Why do you talk such nonsense? My father...."
The pale man, in whose wake a drove of furies seemed to have entered the counting-house—for he trembled in every limb—now rushed at his patron, firmly resolved to get over with his business before the feast began, so that nothing should afterwards disturb the general enjoyment.
"Help me," he groaned, with the despair of a drowning man, taking a bill out of his pocket.
Falk sat down on the sofa, shouted for Andersson, ordered him to open the bottles and began to mix the bowl.