The secretary-receptionist looked up at long last at the very average looking young man before him. "Yes," he said impatiently.
The stranger said, "I would like to see Comrade Broz."
"Surely you must realize that the Commissar is one of the busiest men in Transbalkania, Comrade." There was mocking sneer in the tone. "His time is not at the disposal of every citizen."
The newcomer looked at the petty authority thoughtfully. "Do you so address everyone that enters this office?" he asked mildly.
The other stared at him flabbergasted. He suddenly banged upon a button on the desk.
When the security guard responded to the summons, he gestured curtly with his head at the newcomer. "Throw this fool out, Petar," he rapped.
Josip Pekic shook his head, almost sadly. "No," he said. "Throw this man out." He pointed at the secretary-receptionist.
The guard called Petar blinked at each of them in turn.
Josip brought forth his wallet, fidgeted a moment with the contents, then flashed his credentials. "State expediter," he said nervously. "Under direct authority of Comrade Zoran Jankez." He looked at the suddenly terrified receptionist. "I don't know what alternative work we can find to fit your talents. However, if I ever again hear of you holding down a position in which you meet the public, I will ... will, ah, see you imprisoned."
The other scurried from the room before Josip thought of more to say.