No, the young man was sorry, Hr. Karlsen could not possibly see him just now. He was engaged with one of the travellers.
“Well, I must see him, anyhow,” said Egholm more soberly.
They were at it again inside, and his knock was unheeded. Then suddenly the whole seemed to collapse in a cascade of laughter.
He knocked again, and walked in. There was old Karlsen, his face unevenly flushed, with a fat cigar sticking out of his beard, and before him a bright-eyed, elegantly dressed commercial traveller, who slapped the Angel’s outstretched hand repeatedly, both men laughing at the top of their voices.
“Beg pardon, Hr. Karlsen—er—would you kindly read this?...” Where was it now? Egholm began helplessly turning the pages of his Bible.
“Hullo, here’s somebody wants to save our souls, by the look of it,” said the elegant one, with a tentative laugh.
“Didn’t my young man out there tell you I was engaged?” said old Karlsen angrily, turning aside.
“But it’s a discovery I’ve made—it’s of the utmost importance. A wonderful find—here in the Holy Scripture itself. Read it, here—it’s only a few lines. I can hardly believe my own senses. Read it—there!”
“But, my dear friend,” said the Angel, “you can see for yourself I’m engaged. We’re in the middle of important business.”
“Let me read just three words to you.”