"You know what?" Zarubin said in a hot whisper. "Let's try to get into the Department of Safety, and become political spies. Then what a life we'll lead! Ugh!"
Yevsey was silent. The political spies frightened him because of their stern eyes and the mystery surrounding their dark business and dark life.
CHAPTER X
An accident happened at home. Dorimedont appeared late at night in torn clothes, without hat or cane, his face bruised and smeared with blood. His bulky body shook, tears ran down his swollen cheeks. He sobbed, and said in a hollow voice:
"It's all over! I must go away—to another city—the minute I can."
Rayisa silently, without haste, wiped his face with a towel dipped in brandy and water. He started and groaned.
"Not so rough! Not so rough! The beasts! How they beat me—with clubs. To beat a man with clubs! Please be more careful. Don't you understand?"
Yevsey handed the water, removed the spy's shoes, and listened to his groans. He took secret satisfaction in his tears and blood. Accustomed as he was to see people beaten until blood was drawn, their outcries did not touch him even though he remembered the pain of the pummelings he had received in his childhood.
"Who did it to you?" asked Rayisa when the spy was settled in bed.
"They trapped me, surrounded me, in a suburb near a thread factory. Now I must go to another city. I will ask for a transfer."