“Short for ‘Sadist,’” Mervyn explained, sorting out the papers. “Affectionate diminutive.”

(This is not the moment to relate in full the story of Miss Sadie Graine. In the history of the Organization, as in the annals of all organizations, that narrative has a place—for Miss Graine’s is a figure known in all large institutions, and even in some smaller ones. Her presence in any substantial office is as inevitable as that of filing cabinets and paper clips; no departmental scene is complete without her. Her own position is subordinate, yet she commands, fearfully, inexplicably, the ear of authority. She accepts no criticism, she possesses no humor; her tyranny is self-righteous, her vengeance inexorable. The sole—and unwitting—contribution made by her presence is to join together those who would otherwise find no common ground. For concerning Miss Graine there can be no divergence of opinion. Before her, all stand united in adversity.

The story of Miss Sadie Graine may yet be told.)

In the new comradeship enjoyed by Swoboda, there was one element more remarkable, more sympathetic than all the others. And that was the bond that developed between Swoboda and Mr. Rodriguez-O’Hearn.

Mr. Rodriguez-O’Hearn was, at the age of fifty-three, one of the most senior officials in DALTO. He was not the Chief Coordinator of the department—that office being filled by Mr. Pylos—and his secondary position was shared with two or three others. Still, he was a person of authority by Organization standards—and more ample standards might only have augmented his prestige.

The accidents of politics and geography which sometimes united to provide the Organization with its higher officials had seldom combined so happily as in the case of Mr. Rodriguez-O’Hearn. His was a mind of uncommon scope and flexibility. He was humorous, compassionate, and incorruptible—these invaluable qualities being here listed by order of importance. His sensibilities revealed themselves, as sensibilities will, continually; and not least in his mannerism of fingering a piece of music from time to time on an imaginary piano. And he was, to a degree unusual in the Organization, a cultivated man. There was, one felt, almost nothing he might not have done.

Yet Mr. Rodriguez-O’Hearn had colleagues of less ability who had gone further; of less energy who had done more.

In all Swoboda’s years with the Organization he had not encountered any official of this caliber. His natural kinship with Rodriguez-O’Hearn went beyond that which he enjoyed with Mervyn, Mordie, and Miss Shamsee. Admiring as Swoboda was of Rodriguez’s gifts, he was also drawn to him by the inconsistencies he began to detect under Rodriguez’s thoughtful exterior.