"Let's put it another way," the Chair said with strained patience. "Of which nation are you a citizen?"
"Why, none of them, of course," Toffee said. "Not that they wouldn't have me, you understand...."
Precisely at this point a door behind the Chair burst open, and a small, musty individual in shirt sleeves hurled himself into the room.
"It's come!" he piped. "It's come!"
"Has someone been praying for rain?" Toffee asked innocently.
The Chair rattled frenziedly. "Just what is it that's important enough to justify this outburst?"
"The news!" the little man jibbered. "I was working down in the Intelligence Department just now...."
"I wondered where they keep all the intelligence around here," Toffee said. "I didn't know they had a department for it."
"Shut up, can't you?" Marc hissed. "You've made enough enemies already to last us out a lifetime."