I said: "When?" and the footman gave me to understand, once again by his suffused silence, that I shouldn’t hang about. It was no better than six in the morning and I had slept hardly at all in the last day. The lulling scent of eucalyptus, the perfume of the place still definitive though mixed now with the fumes of automobiles and aircraft rather than the scent of grazing goats in the streets, was calling me to my bed. Well, that would have to wait, because the Emperor simply did not. I took as much time as I dared to make myself presentable, which was not much, and the footman drove me to the palace.