enough; you had to pick something with emotional connotations. Well, you
can start right in forgetting her, because she doesn't exist."

I couldn't give up hope, as easily as that. "But can't you--can't
you--?" I didn't even know what I meant to ask.

"Van Manderpootz," he announced, "is a mathematician, not a magician. Do
you expect me to materialize an ideal for you?" When I had no reply but
a groan, he continued. "Now I think it safe enough to try the device
myself. I shall take--let's see--the thought 'man.' I shall see what the
superman looks like, since the ideal of van Manderpootz can be nothing
less than superman." He seated himself. "Turn that switch," he said.
"Now!"

I did. The tubes glowed into low blue light. I watched dully,
disinterestedly; nothing held any attraction for me after that image of
the ideal.

"Huh!" said van Manderpootz suddenly. "Turn it on, I say! I see nothing
but my own reflection."

I stared, then burst into a hollow laugh. The mirror was spinning; the
banks of tubes were glowing; the device was operating.

Van Manderpootz raised his face, a little redder than usual. I laughed
half hysterically. "After all," he said huffily, "one might have a lower
ideal of man than van Manderpootz. I see nothing nearly so humorous as
your situation."

The laughter died. I went miserably home, spent half the remainder of
the night in morose contemplation, smoked nearly two packs of
cigarettes, and didn't get to the office at all the next day.

* * * * *

Tips Alva got back to town for a week-end broadcast, but I didn't even
bother to see her, just phoned her and told her I was sick. I guess my
face lent credibility to the story, for she was duly sympathetic, and
her face in the phone screen was quite anxious. Even at that, I couldn't
keep my eyes away from her lips because, except for a bit too lustrous
make-up, they were the lips of the ideal. But they weren't enough; they
just weren't enough.

Old N. J. began to worry again. I couldn't sleep late of mornings any
more, and after missing that one day, I kept getting down earlier and
earlier until one morning I was only ten minutes late. He called me in
at once.

"Look here, Dixon," he said. "Have you been to a doctor recently?"

"I'm not sick," I said listlessly.

"Then for Heaven's sake, marry the girl! I don't care what chorus she
kicks in, marry her and act like a human being again."

"I--can't."

"