He was wearing a pair of large spectacles. He was seated in front of a chessboard, studying the positions of the pieces. He did not notice Cliff's face peering through the opening.
"Come."
A third panel was opened for inspection. This room was a virtual duplicate of the second.
A stoop-shouldered, gray-haired man was pondering over a large book. He was making notations on a pad that lay beside him. He was the first to realize that he was being watched. He turned suddenly about and looked at the open panel with sharp, piercing eyes.
Orlinov closed the panel, and conducted Cliff along the corridor. He allowed brief inspections of other rooms. These resembled the ones that Cliff had seen, but they were not occupied. Orlinov maintained a cryptic silence. Cliff pondered. He followed the Russian to the first floor. There, Orlinov opened the doors of other rooms. These were workshops and laboratories, each fitted out in excellent style. Another apartment contained a vast array of bookcases and filing cabinets — a veritable library.
Finally, Orlinov led the way to the very room where Cliff had listened to the talk between the Russian and Glade Tremont. This proved to be a simply furnished office Orlinov motioned for Cliff to sit down. The Russian took a standing position at the other side of the room. Cliff watched him, wondering. He was completely puzzled by the strange sights that he had witnessed.
He felt sure that Orlinov was about to give an explanation. That, Cliff decided, would be both interesting and of value.
"They were comfortable?" came the Russian's question.
"They appeared to be," responded Cliff, knowing that Orlinov referred to the men upstairs.
"It iss well," said Orlinov. "They can haff comfort if they wish it. If they do not, they can haff trouble." Cliff accepted this ominous statement without making a response. He was anxious to hear Orlinov talk, but was too wise to question the Russian.