You fill in a sheaf of forms before you're shown into a plush anteroom at the Embassy. You wait. [...] 'Sorry. We forgot you were in here,' he says. 'Your docket has expired now. You'll have to come back and reapply for an audience.'
It takes [...] to see anyone at the Brass Embassy. [...] Some time later [...] arrives with a tea-tray. He listens eagerly to your tale. [...] 'There are gatherings in Watchmaker's Hill, you know, where you might meet some interesting people. [...]'
