"For the bottlemakers."
"If for them, then what for us? We shan't want more bottles than we can sell. Besides, we can make our own bottles if it comes to that. Cost of bottle, contents, cork, label, and all, one penny. Selling price, eightpence. Sale, at a moderate estimate, one million bottles a year. How does that figure for a profit?"
"It figures nicely. But give me facts. How long do you suppose it will take us to reach that sale?"
"No time. The name will sell it! 'Aunt Jane's Jalap!' There isn't an old woman in England who, seeing those words staring her in the face, won't press a longing hand to her inside."
"Outside, I presume, you mean. But no matter."
Hughes placed the bottle on the table. He looked at it with loving eyes. Then he shook his head.
"There's only one thing we want."
"Customers?"
"Testimonials! There's something in it. I know there is."
"Not much, perhaps, but still something."