Then he was summoned to appear before the Purge Committee. It was seated behind a green table that stretched across the room in the office of the legal adviser to the ministry. The secretariat occupied one end of the table; he was asked to sit down facing the members of the committee, who sat on the opposite side. On the wall behind them, he noticed that God’s name in a frame had taken the place of the King’s picture. When he looked at the faces of the people sitting in front of him, he recognized the representative of the State Council as an old colleague of his on the Students’ Committee; they had both almost been killed one day during a demonstration in front of the Parliament building—and his mouth felt a little less dry. The committee only looked at him gravely, however, or glanced into their dossiers. None of them gave the slightest indication of having worked with him, even though the personnel director and the director of the general administration numbered among them. There’d been a time when he’d made several members of this committee tremble even when his party was not in power. But now a cold neutrality had taken the place of sympathy or cordiality: an icy terror pervaded the atmosphere of this big room with its high ceiling and dark walls, filled with the smell of stale cigarettes. Through the glass of the locked door, he saw a kite land on the outside balcony and then take off again at great speed, making a noise like a dirge.

The chairman stared at him for a long time through his dark blue gold-rimmed spectacles. “I hope you’re completely convinced of our impartiality,” he said. “We seek only justice.”

“I’ve no doubts of that,” Isa replied, a calm smile concealing his desperation.

“I want you to know that the purpose of the task with which we have been entrusted is to serve the public interest. There’s no idea of revenge or any other motive…”

“I’ve no doubts about that either,” Isa replied, sinking several levels further into the clutches of despair.