“We don’t sell it by the pound; we sell it by the spasm.”
“Then,” I said, “I’ll take six spasms.”
“James, six of the pure white.”
“Right,” said the voice of James.
For a moment I tried to recall the beautiful girl in white whom I had just seen. I wondered how my first sentence began and how my last sentence would have ended. I seemed to have walked for a while upon those heights of love that reach beyond the fires of passion, and on which lie the snows of perpetual purity. I felt that my self-respect had considerably increased in consequence. Here I was interrupted by Mr. Joseph.
“What will be the next order?”
“I have often longed,” I replied, “for a little real happiness.”
“Yes,” said Mr. Joseph. “But that is a blend. You buy the ingredients and you blend them yourself. Unfortunately, we do not provide Incomes. We have a Literary Fame which gives great satisfaction. ‘Political Success’ is in considerable demand. Then there’s ‘Religious Exaltation’—not much asked for lately, I’m afraid. ‘Requited Love’ is not expensive, but we’ve had complaints that it doesn’t wear well. Of course there’s Death by Drowning, Death by——”
“Stop, Mr. Joseph,” I cried, “I have no desire to die.” I had already decided what should be my next experiment; for even under-masters have their ambitions. “I think,” I said, “that I should rather like to try the ‘Political Success.’”
Mr. Joseph took my order with alacrity, and the same process as before was repeated. Once more I seemed to have left the grocery. I was standing on a balcony, my hat in my hand, and below me in the street there was a surging mass of people. As far as my sight could reach I could see eager, excited faces upturned. I was just concluding a speech, and, as before, was in the middle of a sentence.