"Hammer," I said, "Paul Hammer." "
How do you do. Won't you sit down."
"Thank you," I said. "You manufacture perfume here?"
"I experiment with scents," he said. "I'm no longer in the manufacturing end of things but if I hit on something I like I'll sell the patent, of course. Not to Beauregarde et Cie, however. After forty-two years with them I was dismissed without cause or warning. However this seems to be a common practice in industry these days. I do have an income from my patents. I am the inventor of Étoile de Neige, Chous-Chous, Muguet de Nuit and Naissance de Jour."
"Really," I said. "How did you happen to pick a place like this-way off in the woods-for your experiments?'
"Well it isn't as out of the way as it seems. I have a garden and I grow my own thyme, lavender, iris, roses, mint, wintergreen, celery and parsley. I buy my lemons and oranges in Blenville and Charlie Hubber, who lives at the four corners, traps beaver and muskrat for me. I find their castors as lasting as civet and I get them for a fraction of the market price. I buy gum resin, methyl salicylate and benz-aldehyde. Flower perfumes are not my forte since they have very limited aphrodisiac powers. The principal ingredient of Chous-Chous is cedar bark, and parsley and celery go into Naissance de Jour."
"Did you study chemistry?"
"No. I learned my profession as an apprentice. I think of it more as alchemy than chemistry. Alchemy is, of course, the transmutation of base metals into noble ones and when an extract of beaver musk, cedar bark, heliotrope, celery and gum resin can arouse immortal longings in a male we are close to alchemy, wouldn't you say?"
"I know what you mean," I said.
"The concept of man as a microcosm, containing within himself all the parts of the universe, is Babylonian. The elements are constant. The distillations and transmutations release their innate power. This not only works in the manufacture of perfume; I think these transmutations can work in the development of character."
I heard a woman's heels in the next room-light, swift, the step of someone young. Marietta came into the kitchen. "This is my granddaughter," he said, "Marietta Drum."
"Paul Hammer," I said.
"Oh, hello," she said. She lighted a cigarette. "Eight," she said.
"How many yesterday," he asked.
"Sixteen," she said, "but it was only twelve the day before."
She wore a cloth coat with a white thread on one shoulder. Her hair was dark blond. She was not beautiful-not yet. Something, some form of loneliness or unhappiness, seemed to mask or darken her looks. It would be a lie to say that there was always a white thread on her clothing-that even if I bought her a mink coat there would be a white thread on it-but the white thread had some mysterious power as if it were a catalyst that clarified my susceptibilities. It seemed like magic and when she picked the thread off her coat and dropped it onto the floor, the magic remained.
"Where are you going now," he asked.
"Oh, I thought I'd drive into New York," she said.
"Why? What do you want to go to New York for? You don't have anything to do in New York."
"I'll find something to do," she said. "I'll go to the Museum of Natural History."
"What about the groceries."
"I'll buy them later. I'll be back before the stores close." She was gone.
"Well, goodbye Schwartz," I said. "Come home whenever you feel like it. I always have plenty of mice. It was nice to have met you," I said to the old man. "You and your granddaughter must come over for a drink someday. I have the Emmison place."
I walked and ran through the snowy woods back to my house, changed my clothes and headed for the city. I was in love with Marietta and I recognized all the symptoms. My life was boundless- my knees were weak. This had nothing to do with the fact that I had been inhaling the aphrodisiac fumes of Étoile de Neige, Chous-Chous, Muguet de Nuit and Naissance de Jour. My sudden infatuation could be put down as immature, but the truth of the matter is that I frequently fall suddenly in love with men, women, children and dogs. These attachments are unpredictable, ardent and numerous.
For example, when I was still in the publishing business I had an appointment to meet a printer in New York. I telephoned from the hotel lobby and he asked me to come up to his room. When he opened the door and introduced himself I saw past him to where his wife stood in the middle of the room. She was not a beauty but she had a prettiness, a brightness, that was stunning. I talked with her only long enough for him to get his hat and coat, but during this time I seemed to fall in love. I urged her to join us for lunch but she said she had to go to Bloomingdale's and look for furniture. We said goodbye and the printer and I went out to lunch. The business conversation bored me and I had trouble keeping my mind on the contracts we were meant to discuss. All I could think of was her blondness, her trimness, the radiance with which, it seemed, she had been standing in the middle of that hotel room when he opened the door. I hurried through lunch, said that I had another appointment, and looped over to the furniture department at Bloomingdale's, where I found her reading a price tag on a chest of drawers.
"Hello," I said.
"Hello," she said, "I somehow thought you might come…" Then she took my arm and we left Bloomingdale's, walking on air, and went to some restaurant where she had tea and I had a drink. We seemed immersed in one another-she seemed to generate a heat and light that I needed. I don't remember much of what we said but I do remember being terribly happy and that everyone around us-the waiters and the barmen-seemed to share our happiness. They lived in Connecticut and she asked me to come out for the weekend. I walked her back to the hotel, kissed her goodbye in the lobby, and walked around the streets for an hour, so high that my ears were ringing. On Friday I went out to Connecticut and she met me at the station. There was a lot of kissing in the car. I said that I loved her. She said she loved me. That night after dinner when her husband went upstairs to the toilet we had a serious discussion about her children-they had three children-and she said that her husband had been in analysis for seven years. At this point any disruption in his affairs would be catastrophic. The pleasure his wife and I took in one another's company must have been apparent because on Saturday he began to sulk. On Sunday he was downright mean and glum. He said that he detested above all things maladjusted men who preyed on the happiness of others. He used the word parasite five times. I said I was leaving for Cleveland in the morning and she said she would drive me to the airport. He said she would not. They had a quarrel and she cried. When I left in the morning they were still sleeping and there was no one to say goodbye to but the cat.
It took me a month or so to forget her but in the meantime I had to go to London. The man with whom I shared a seat on the plane was pleasant and we began to talk. Nothing important was said but we were very sympathetic and at one point he asked if I would like to go to sleep or should we go on talking. I said that I would like to go on talking and we talked all the way across the Atlantic. We shared a cab into London. I was going to the Connaught and he was staying at the Army-Navy. When we said goodbye he suggested that we have lunch together. I had no other engagement and he met me at the Connaught for lunch. After lunch we started walking and we walked all over London-walked to Westminster and the Embankment -and when the bars reopened we went to a pub and had some drinks. He said that he knew of a good restaurant near Grosvenor Square and we went there for dinner and stayed there until about midnight when we said goodbye. We exchanged cards and promised to call one another in New. York but we never did and I've never seen him