They were at the further end from that at which he entered, and he stood, a little nervous at his heart, but with his usual appearance of self-possession, watching the two great backs turned to him, and waiting to be called.
They turned again in a moment, and Cromwell saw him and beckoned, himself coming a few steps to meet him.

The King waited, and Ralph was aware of, rather than saw, that wide, coarse, strong face, and the long narrow eyes, with the feathered cap atop, and the rich jewelled dress beneath.

The King stood with his hands behind his back and his legs well apart.
Cromwell took the paper from Ralph, who stepped back, hesitating what to do.
"This is it, your Grace," said the minister going back again.

"Your Grace will see that it is as I said." Ralph perceived a new tone of deference in his master's voice that he had never noticed before, except once when Cromwell was ironically bullying a culprit who was giving trouble.
The King said nothing, took the paper and glanced over it, standing a little aside to let the light fall on it.
"Your Grace will understand--" began Cromwell again.
"Yes, yes, yes," said the harsh voice impatiently.

"Let the fellow take it back," and he thrust the paper into Cromwell's hand, who turned once more to Ralph.
"Who is he ?" said the King.