Yakov looked at him with satisfaction.
"If that's so," he said, "you haven't a bad head. But you're lying."
Yevsey felt affronted.
"It's all the same to me whether you believe me or not. It's the worse for you if you don't."
"For me?" asked Yakov, and for some reason burst out laughing, merrily and vigorously rubbing his hands.
Two days later the assistant captain Komov and a grey-eyed gentleman with a round close-cropped head and a bored yellow face, came up to Yevsey's table.
"Klimkov, betake yourself to the Department of Safety," said the captain clearly and ominously. "Is your desk locked?"
"No."
Yevsey rose, but his legs trembled, and he dropped into his chair again. The crop-haired man drew nearer.
"Permit me," he said drily, then pulled out the table drawer and took out the papers.