Here Bernenstein paused.
"I am ordered to wait outside till his Majesty summons me," he said in a low voice, as though he feared that the irritable king would hear him.
"I'll open the door and announce you.

Pray keep him in a good temper, for all our sakes." And he flung the door open, saying, "Sire, the Count of Luzau-Rischenheim has the honor to wait on your Majesty." With this he shut the door promptly, and stood against it.

Nor did he move, save once, and then only to take out his revolver and carefully inspect it.
The count advanced, bowing low, and striving to conceal a visible agitation.

He saw the king in his arm-chair; the king wore a suit of brown tweeds (none the better for being crushed into a bundle the night before); his face was in deep shadow, but Rischenheim perceived that the beard was indeed gone.

The king held out his hand to Rischenheim, and motioned him to sit in a chair just opposite to him and within a foot of the window-curtains.
"I'm delighted to see you, my lord," said the king.
Rischenheim looked up.