“You see how it is, Germaine,” said Mr. Bekkus, again leaning back in the tiny office as if he owned it all. “The Director-General is loosening things up, wants people who have ideas, individuality, not the run-of-the-mill civil servants we’ve been getting round here.” His gesture was apparently directed toward the outer office, which Germaine shared with Swoboda, the clerk. “Not just people who fit in with the requirements. And he’s prepared to relax the requirements in order to get them.”

Germaine wrinkled her forehead. “But you did say.” She turned up her notes again.

“What did I say?” asked Mr. Bekkus, turning faintly hostile.

“Here. Where it says about due regard.”

“Ah—the necessary qualifications. My dear girl, we have to talk in terms of suitable candidates. You can’t take on just anybody. You wouldn’t suggest that we promote people merely to be kind to them?” Since Germaine looked for a moment as if she might conceivably make such a suggestion, he added belligerently, “Would you?”

“Oh—no.” And, having found her pencil under the Daily List of Official Documents, she added, “Here it is.”

“Why, these are the elementary qualifications in any organization today.” Holding up one hand, he enumerated them on his outstretched fingers. “University education”—Mr. Bekkus would have been the last to minimize the importance of this in view of the years it had taken him to wrest his own degree in business administration from a reluctant provincial college. “Administrative ability. Output. Responsibility. And leadership potential.” Having come to the end of his fingers, he appeared to dismiss the possibility of additional requirements; he had in some way contrived to make them all sound like the same thing.

“I’ll leave a blank then,” said Germaine. “At the end of the page.” She tucked her pencil in the flap of her book and left the room.

Stupid little thing, Mr. Bekkus thought indulgently—even, perhaps, companionably. Germaine at any rate need not disturb herself about the new directive: she was lucky to be in the Organization at all. This was the way Mr. Bekkus felt about any number of his colleagues.

“Yes, come in, Swoboda. Good. Sit down, will you, and we’ll go over these. I’ve drafted a memo for the Section Chief to sign.”