"I dropped my glass," Retief said. "Mr. Magnan's upset because he hates to see liquor wasted."
Retief turned to find himself face-to-face with Ambassador Crodfoller.
"I witnessed that," The Ambassador hissed. "By the goodness of Providence, the Potentate and his retinue haven't appeared yet. But I can assure you the servants saw it. A more un-Nenni-like display I would find it difficult to imagine!"
Retief arranged his features in an expression of deep interest.
"More un-Nenni-like, sir?" he said. "I'm not sure I—"
"Bah!" The Ambassador glared at Retief, "Your reputation has preceded you, sir. Your name is associated with a number of the most bizarre incidents in Corps history. I'm warning you; I'll tolerate nothing." He turned and stalked away.
"Ambassador-baiting is a dangerous sport, Retief," Magnan said.
Retief took a swallow of his drink. "Still," he said, "it's better than no sport at all."
"Your time would be better spent observing the Nenni mannerisms. Frankly, Retief, you're not fitting into the group at all well."
"I'll be candid with you, Mr. Magnan. The group gives me the willies."