“Hold your tongue!” said the consul, busying himself with the rinsing of two glasses. “We’re first going to have a glass of three-stars.”
“No, I won’t have any!” said Wangen. “But what was it that I positively must hear?”
“Just you sit down, my boy!” said the consul, chuckling as he held up a glass to the light. “Upon my word, the world is worse than I thought.”
This meant a good deal, for the consul was not accustomed to judge people leniently.
“What is it?” said Wangen. “Has anything happened to my wife?”
The consul placed the glasses on the table, and fixed his little, venomous eyes upon Wangen, while his red nose wrinkled in a smile.
“Oh well, so many things happen,” he said. “Now for instance, what is your opinion of the great man at Norby?”
“Norby? I really don’t know. I’ve got enough to do to look after myself. But I must go.”
“Wait!” said the consul. “Norby must have a spite against you, for, to tell the truth, he means to get you sent to prison because you have forged his signature.”