It certainly was strange, Mary-Jean thought. The suitcase was crowded with various items, she could sense that. Yet try as she might to see them, an eerie kind of haze seemed to be hanging over the suitcase. She could see nothing through it. Absolutely nothing.
"Naturally," said the peddler. "But to answer your question. I sell people."
"No. I don't want to know whom you sell. I want to know what you sell to them."
"I told you, madam. I made it quite clear. I sell people."
"People?"
"People."
"Really, if this is some kind of an elaborate sales pitch—"
"May I ask you a question, madam?"
Almost, Mary-Jean was disappointed. It was coming now. After the snappy beginning to hook her interest, the sales routine was sinking into its familiar pattern. Are you satisfied with your present vacuum cleaner, madam? Did you know that I am the new Fill-strip Brushman in your community? Have you ever thought of owning your own encyclopedia, for when the children grow up? I have here in this suitcase, madam....