him, smiling for the first time. "I'm glad you asked
that question, Collins. It's about time you did, you know. Everything
has been so carefully planned to keep you from asking it. But you
_were_ beginning to wonder just a bit anyway, weren't you?"

"I don't see what you're driving at."

"You don't see what anyone is driving at, Collins. You've been blinded
by a spectacular display of kindness, misdirected by self-indulgence.
I told you I knew everything I needed to know about you, and I do. Now
I'm going to ask you to remember these things for yourself; the things
you've avoided considering all this while.

"I'm going to ask you to remember that you're twenty-eight years old,
and that for almost seven years you were an agency man and a good one.
You worked hard, you did a conscientious job, you stayed in line,
obeyed the rules, never rebelled. Am I correct in my summary of the
situation?"

"Yes, I guess so."

"So what was your reward for all this unceasing effort and eternal
conformity? A one-room apartment and a one-week vacation, once a year.
Count your blessings, Collins. Am I right?"

"Right."

"Then what happened? Finally you flipped, didn't you? Tried to take a
header out of the window. You chucked your job, chucked your
responsibilities, chucked your future and attempted to chuck yourself
away. Am I still right?"

"Yes."

"Good enough. And now we come to the interesting part of the story.
Seven years of being a good little boy got you nothing but the promise
of present and future frustration. Seven seconds of madness, of
attempted self-destruction, brought you here. And as a reward for
bucking the system, the system itself has provided you with a life of
luxury and leisure--full permission to come and go as you please, live
in spacious ease, indulge in the gratification of every appetite, free
of responsibility or restraint. Is that true?"

"I suppose so."

"All right. Now, let me ask you the question you asked me. What's it
all about?"

Ritchie put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Tell me that, Collins. Why
do you suppose you've received such treatment? As long as you stayed
in line, nobody gave a damn for your comfort or welfare. Then, when
you committed the cardinal sin of our present-day society--when you
rebelled--everything was handed to you on a silver platter. Does that
make sense?"

"But it's therapy. Dr. Manschoff said--"

"Look, Collins. Millions of people flip every year. Millions