"Not in a few days' time," interrupted Juve: "but now at once!"
"Pardon," objected de Naarboveck, cool, collected, while Juve had difficulty in containing himself: "Pardon, but the credentials I possess are authentic, and no one in this world can deprive me of my function, of my official position, and what pertains to it."
"Yes!" Juve flung the word at de Naarboveck as though it were a stone from a sling.
De Naarboveck's gesture might mean anything:
"Who?"...
Juve hurled another two stones in the shape of words.
"The king!"
De Naarboveck's nod was malicious.
"Frederick Christian alone can take from me my style and title of ambassador.... Let him come and do it!"
Juve lifted a finger slowly towards the far end of the library, in the direction of the window.