No sooner was I seated at an inn than two messengers from the yamen called for my passport.

They were officious young fellows, sadly wanting in respect, and they asked for my passport in a noisy way that I did not like, so I would not understand them.

I only smiled at them in the most friendly manner possible.

I kept them for some time in a fever of irritation at their inability to make me understand; I listened with imperturbable calmness to their excited phrases till they were nearly dancing.

Then I leisurely produced my passport, as if to satisfy a curiosity of my own, and began scanning it.