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at once. But that was over since his appointment as Account Manager of Glo; Hoppness, Silch did not approve of divided loyalties any more than Keithdid, and Glo took up all Keith’s time. They did approve of Keith, however: “We really feel he speaks our language ,” they said. Keith had been round the factory, and seen how Glo was made; Keith could tell you the formula of Glo, and knew how it was different from New Fiz, Super, Shining Blue and Gentle. He had watched Performance Tests, and Product Demonstrations, and had taken part in Blind Tests. He had been on Store Checks, and had spent a week with the Glo Sales Force. He knew what Glo’s share of the market was this year, and what it had been last year, and what it ought to be next year. He read reports and wrote reports about Glo, made and received telephone calls about Glo, devised strategies for Glo, and revised strategies for Glo, and hypothesized strategies for a hypothetical Glo if Glo should ever change. Every week he took advertisements for Glo to Luton to show them to Hoppness, Silch, and came back from Luton to the Agency with suggestions for amendments which (he was genuinely convinced) improved the advertisements, and he carried the amended advertisements back to Luton the next week, and returned , just as convinced, with further amendments, and talked to members of the Creative Group within the Agency about these amendments, and became less convinced that they improved the advertisements, but inclined to think that they might reasonably be made as a gesture to Hoppness, and took the re-amended advertisements back to Luton, and became more and more worried about the client’s suggestions for yet further amendments. And when these so many times amended advertisements did finally appear in the press or on television, there was always work to be done on the advertisements which were to follow, and on test campaigns which came to nothing, or simply on the processknown to Hoppness as “thinking through an idea”—a process that might continue through six months and eighteen submissions before it was decided that the idea wasn’t a very good one after all. Yes, Keith thought about Glo for most of the time. He did not, as Sophia had guessed, often get home before eight-thirty, and when he went to bed, his feet itched.
    Glo was kept in Keith’s kitchen in the special plastic holder you could get by sending away the top of a packet of Glo and a postal order for one and sixpence, but Sylvia did not use it. A year after Keith had taken over the account, Glo had begun to give Sylvia a rash. In fact, nowadays all Hoppness products gave her a rash. This irritated Keith. He explained to Sylvia that there were no major differences in the formulae of any of the synthetic detergents put out by the three main companies, and that if Star (a Miles & Baker product) didn’t give Sylvia a rash, there was no reason why Glo should. It was just psychological, he said. So there was a quarrel because, over the past few years, Sylvia had grown very sensitive to words like “psychological” and “psycho-somatic”; she did not care to have them used in reference to her. She insisted that even her migraine attacks were of physical origin; she had an aunt who suffered from migraine, and these things were known to run in families.
    They did quarrel sometimes, Keith and Sylvia, but not more than any other married couple, Keith thought. (He didn’t want another drink. Relaxing might be the conventional thing to do after a hard day at the office, but shouldn’t get out of hand. Besides, his train would be in by now.) Mostly about Stephen, and that too, he supposed, was usual. Stephen was such a bright, intelligent boy; he was so imaginative. Anyone could tell thathe would grow up to be something—well, creative, a writer perhaps, or an actor, or a painter or musician, someone who lived in limelight, whom people looked up to, someone who had power over people, just as clients, as