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judiciously angry, when to blurt out his thoughts with calculated ingenuousness and when to keep to himself. Anderson had always regarded his own ability to judge the likely reactions of other people to any remark as his most valuable stock in trade. If he could no longer trust—
    But it was foolish to meander on in this way. With determination Anderson brought back his mind to the new account. VV’s instructions were always sketchy, but this time they had been more than usually inadequate. How was it possible to talk about this stuff at all without knowing something about its ingredients and history? Anderson decided that he had better talk to Reverton; and talking to Reverton, he reflected, might enable him to discover how he was regarded. He had always assumed that it would be only a matter of time, and a comparatively short time, before he was offered a place on the board. If Reverton had really made that remark to Wyvern (although Wyvern, who was malicious, was quite capable of inventing it), then he must be very careful in future.
    Reverton’s office was slickly modern, with bleached furniture and two abstract paintings on the walls; it offered a sharp contrast to the gloom of Pile’s office and the disorder of VV’s. Reverton sat behind his pipe at the desk and listened while Anderson talked in jerks, ticking off points on his fingers. One, before doing anything serious, they must have some dope about the secret process, not necessarily for use in the advertising, but for their own information and satisfaction. Two, they must think in terms of an educative campaign, as well as of the announcement of a modern miracle. They must remember that miracles were always greeted with incredulity. Three, they must test the product throughout the firm. Four, they must know the approximate price at which it would be marked. Reverton nodded again and again.
    I absolutely agree, Andy. I’m damned glad you’ve brought all this up. Between you and me, the trouble with VV is that he rushes into these things half-cocked.” He became suddenly solemn. “VV’s a great man. But when it comes down to practicalities he can be a bit of an ass, too.” Anderson said nothing. That was the kind of remark that it was dangerous to answer. “Now, point one. We’re fighting it out with people in South Africa about the process. They’re very cagey about ingredients and processing, but we’ll get it out of them in the end. Meanwhile just for the present we must go ahead on the assumption that we’ll have a story to tell on the manufacturing side, without making it the principal story.
    “Point two, education. I agree entirely. We advertising men have a duty to the public. I know all the smart boys think that’s funny, but it happens to be true. We’ve got a responsibility to society.” Puff puff. “We’ve got power – and we have to be careful not to misuse it.” Puff puff. “Think of this as an educative project, Andy, and you’ll have me with you.”
    Anderson still said nothing. Reverton took the small jar out of his desk. “Point three. This is the only sample of Number One that we’ve got at the moment. So we can’t test it out throughout the firm. I used it this morning, of course, but my beard’s not much.” He looked at Anderson’s blue chin.
    “I’d like to take it home and try it out this week. Then I’ll pass it on to Lessing.”
    “Good old Andy. Getting right down to brass tacks. Glad there’s another practical man in this organisation.” Reverton tamped down tobacco, looked at the small pot in Anderson’s hand and grinned. “Chin chin, Andy. Let me know how the old white magic works.”
    Back in his room again Anderson took off the cap and looked at the white paste again, then smelt it. There was an odour which faintly resembled eucalyptus. Anderson turned down his mouth in distaste and called in Lessing. Lessing sniffed, and shook his head.
    “They’ll have to find a way of getting rid of that