While buying a pair of brown silk laces, Miss Climpson
debated with herself. Should she follow and seize this
opportunity? Trying on shoes is usually a lengthy business.
The subject is marooned for long periods in a chair, while
the assistant climbs ladders and collects piles of cardboard
boxes. It is also comparatively easy to enter into conversation
with a person who is trying on shoes. But there is a
snag in it. To give colour to your presence in the Fitting
department, you must yourself try on shoes. What happens?
The assistant first disables you by snatching off your
right-hand shoe, and then disappears. And supposing,
meanwhile, your quarry completes her purchase and walks
out? Are you to follow, hopping madly on one foot? Are
you to arouse suspicion by hurriedly replacing your own
footgear and rushing out with laces flying and an unconvincing
murmur about a forgotten engagement? Still
worse, suppose you are in an amphibious condition, wearing
one shoe of your own and one of the establishment's?
What impression will you make by suddenly bolting with
goods to which you are not entitled? Will not the pursuer
very quickly become the pursued?
Having weighed this problem in her mind, Miss Climpson
paid for her shoelaces and retired. She had already
bilked a tea-shop, and one misdemeanour in a morning
was about as much as she could hope to get away with.
- Strong Poison
descensus Averno facilis est