"Mr. Gallup wouldn't have treated me that way," she said. Mr. Gallup had been her first husband.

Mr. Pottle knew resistance was futile.

"Oh, all right. I'll be treasurer."

She smiled. "Now one more tiny favor?"

"Well?"

"I want you to be the Spirit of History and read the historic epilogue."

"Me? I'm no spirit. I'm a boss barber."

"Well, if you don't take the job, I suppose I can get one of the Gulicks."

He considered a second.

"All right," he said. "I'll be the Spirit of History. But understand one thing, right here and now: I will not wear tights."