"He calls everybody hybrid."
"A smart beast!" exclaimed Piotr smiling dreamily. "Rotten to the core, but just see how his power keeps rising! That's what education will do for you."
The bald-headed spy looked at everybody with his mole eyes, and again asked hesitatingly:
"What does he mean—eh, eh—does he mean us?"
"Politics," said Grokhotov. "Politics is a wise business. It's not squeamish."
"If I had received an education, I too, would have turned up trumps," declared Piotr.
The red-headed spy carelessly swung himself on his chair, his mouth frequently gaping in a wide yawn.
Sasha emerged from the cabinet, livid and dishevelled. He stopped at the door, and looked at everybody.
"Eavesdropping, eh?" he asked sarcastically.
The rest of the spies dropped into the office one by one, wearily and dismally, flinging various remarks at one another. Maklakov came in an ill humor. The look in his eyes was sharp and insulting. He passed quickly into the cabinet, and banged the door behind him.