His eyelids rolled slowly back, like an owl's, revealing pale blue eyes, which fixed themselves first upon the ceiling, then upon Anselme.

Instantly he sat up, puffing and scowling, his hands shuffling his papers.
"A thousand devils! Anselme, why am I interrupted ?" he grumbled querulously, still half-asleep.

"What the plague do you want?
Have you no thought for the King's affairs?
Babylas"-- this to his secretary--"did I not tell you that I had much to do; that I must not be disturbed ?" It was the great vanity of the life of this man, who did nothing, to appear the busiest fellow in all France, and no audience--not even that of his own lackeys--was too mean for him to take the stage to in that predilect role.
"Monsieur le Comte," said Anselme, in tones of abject self-effacement, "I had never dared intrude had the matter been of less urgency.
But Madame the Dowager of Condillac is below.

She begs to see Your Excellency instantly." At once there was a change.

Tressan became wide-awake upon the instant.
His first act was to pass one hand over the wax-like surface of his bald head, whilst his other snatched at his wig.