Some weeks of archaeological jokes and official indecision were followed by the announcement of Pylos’s appointment. The staff of the new department—who had all been drawn from other areas of the Organization—at first rejoiced, without knowing why. In Organization circles, the devil you don’t know is always preferable, and it was readily believed that Pylos was a man of outstanding talents. Rumors circulated that he had been a hero of the Greek Resistance, that he possessed a famous collection of antiquities, that his wife owned a shipping line, that he had come to prominence from poverty-stricken origins, that his family was a princely and immensely rich one. At last, as his arrival drew near, the staff reconciled themselves to reality. Their reception of the real Pylos had nothing to do with the legends that preceded him, for in their hearts they had known all along how closely he would resemble his peers. So close, indeed, was this resemblance that the official sent by the Organization to meet Pylos at the dock picked him out at once from a throng of fellow-passengers.

And now, alone in his new room, still wondering what particular quality of his had struck the Organizational hierarchy, Pylos could not know that it was precisely his lack of striking qualities that had brought him there.

He got up and went over a second time to the closed door that led to his conference room. Taking out his handkerchief, he turned the metal handle cautiously. At this moment a single knock was instantly followed by the opening of another door, and Miss Sadie Graine came into the room.

Pylos smiled again at Sadie Graine. The sooner she goes the better, he thought, putting away his handkerchief. But he came—as it were, obediently—back to his desk where she stood, and sat down.

“I’ve prepared a list of your meetings this afternoon,” said Miss Graine, placing this on the corner of the desk.

Pylos drew the paper toward him and saw that it was, in fact, a useful description not only of the meetings he was to attend and the officials who were to be at them, but even of the issues that might be raised and what the background of those issues was. He said, “Thank you, most helpful,” in a minimizing way, but it was clear to him that the paper was invaluable, and he felt that this was also clear to Miss Graine. He laid it casually to one side.

She now indicated the pile of documents which had been left for study, and which he had not touched. “Shall I go through these for you?”

Pylos looked up. “But shouldn’t I—” he began, and then began again, “It was felt by Mr. Choudhury and Mr. Chai…”