“And the gilt edges on this row of the books before me are as good as new, and perfectly uninjured,” said Gentz, gravely.
“Well, that is easily explained. They have not been disturbed since the bookbinder brought them here,” exclaimed the footman, solemnly. “No one would dare to handle them.”
“Does not his excellency read these books?”
“God forbid! His excellency likes books, but he has not got time to read much. But whenever his excellency passes through this anteroom, he pauses before his bookcases, and looks at them, and, with his own hands, frequently wipes off the dust from the gilt edges of the books.”
“Indeed, that is a most honorable occupation for a minister of finance,” said Gentz, emphatically. “It is always a great consolation to know that a minister of finance wipes off the dust from the gold. I should be very happy if his excellency should consent to do that also for me as often as possible. But does it not seem to you, my dear fellow, that it takes his excellency a good while to finish those dispatches? It is nearly half an hour since I have been waiting here.”
“I am sure his excellency will soon ring the bell.”
“Ring the bell?” asked Gentz, uneasily, “for whom?”
“Why, for myself, in order to notify me to admit you, Mr. Counsellor.”
“Ah, for you?” asked Gentz, drawing a deep breath, and turning once more to the books in order to while away the time by reading at least the titles, as he was not permitted to take down and open one of the magnificent volumes.
Time passed on in this manner, and Gentz was walking up and down near the bookcases, studying the titles, and waiting. The footman had withdrawn into the most remote window, and was waiting likewise.