«I do,»said Caroline.
«I do,»said Alan.
«It sounds quite like the wedding service,» said Humphrey with a smile. He laid the phial in their joined hands. «But, of course, it isn't. Well, there it is, for both of you.»
«We shall take half each,» said Caroline.
«A hundred years apiece!» said Alan.
«Here! Wait a minute! Hold on!» said Humphrey. «I'm afraid I've misled you. I suppose one works on a subject for years, and gets so close to it, one forgets other people don't know the first thing. There was an interesting example of that…»
«Why can't we take half each?» said Caroline rather loudly.
«Because, my dear, glands don't understand arithmetic. A half-changed gland won't give you half two hundred years of youth and beauty. Oh, no! Caroline, I remember the very first time I met you I told you what people were like when certain glands were deranged.»
«You mean those awful idiots ?»
«Exactly. This is one dose here, and one dose only. It can be drunk in one gulp; it's got a little flavour, but hardly unpleasant. It's simple, but it's dangerous if you fool with it — like dynamite. Keep it as a curiosity. It's no use; it isn't pretty; it's a wedding present. At least it's unique.»
«Well, thank you, Humphrey. Thank you very, very much.»
Thereupon Caroline and Alan went home, where they set this interesting little bottle on the mantelpiece. They then took a long look at it, and a long look at each other. Had it been possible they might have taken a long look in that enormous mirror, the public eye, before which — almost in which — their lives were lived, and in which they were the perfect lovers.
«You must take it right away,» said Alan. «I'll get you a glass of water to drink afterwards.»
«I shall do no such thing. Alan, I want you to drink it.»
«Darling, come here and look in the glass. Do you see? I'm being perfectly selfish. I want you to be like that forever.»
«I can see you, too, Alan. And that's how you've got to be.»
Some compliments were exchanged. They were sincere and enthusiastic, and became more so. In the end the little bottle was entirely forgotten. But the next morning it was still there.
Alan and Caroline were as determined as ever, each that the other should drink the precious potion. It is impossible to say exactly what it was in their protestations that suggested that each of them may have thought a little about it during the night.
«We can't spend the rest of our lives doing a sort of 'After you, Alphonse,'» said Caroline. «I swear to you; I cross my heart and hope to die — I want you to take it. Now please do.»
«Get this straight once and for all,» said Alan. «You're going to take it, and I'm not. I'm going to be like that fellow what's his name who fell in love with — you know — the goddess.»
«But darling, think of your overhead smash!»
«What's wrong with it? Are you trying to tell me it's not holding up?»
«Of course not. It's wonderful how it holds up. Everyone says so. But you'll be up against that awful boy from California in August, you know.»
«I can take care of that pip-squeak without any monkey gland,» said Alan. «I must say I'm rather suprised you think I can't.»
«I don't think you can't, »said Caroline. «But …»
«Oh, there's a 'but' to it!»
«But you are six years older than I am.»
«Oh, listen! A man's got ten years at least on a woman.»
«Not every woman. It's true some women like going around with men old enough to be their fathers.» She studied him thoughtfully. «I think you'll look awfully distinguished with grey hair.»
Alan looked unhappily into the mirror. Then he looked at Caroline. «I can't imagine you with grey hair. So, you see, if I did drink it, just to please you …»
«I wish you would,» cried Caroline, whose basic goodness and kindness are a matter of record. «Alan, I won't see you get old, and ugly, and ill … and die. I'd rather it was me. Truly I would. Rather than have you die and be left without you.»
«And that goes for me,» said Alan, with just as much emphasis, but yet in a way that caused her to look at him searchingly.
«But you'd love me?» she asked, «even if I did get old? Wouldn't you?» Then, giving him no time at alclass="underline" «Or would you?»
«Carrie, you know I would.»
«No, you wouldn't. But I would you.»
«If that's what you think,» said Alan, «you'd better take it yourself. It's obvious. Go on — take it. And let me get old.»
«I wish Humphrey had never given us the wretched stuff!» cried Caroline. «Let's pour it down the sink. Come on! Right now!»
«Are you crazy?» cried Alan, snatching the phial from her hand. «The only bottle in the whole world! From what Baxter said, a man died for the sake of what's in that bottle.»
«And he'd be awfully hurt if we threw it away,» murmured Caroline.
«To hell with him,» said Alan. «But after all it's a wedding present.»
So they left it right there on the mantelpiece, which is a good place for a wedding present, and their wonderful life went on.
The only trouble was, they were both becoming age-conscious to a degree which gradually amounted to an obsession. Caroline became extremely exacting at the beauty parlour. It was pathetic to see Alan hovering in front of the mirror, trying to decide if that was only a sun-bleached hair on his temple, or a grey one. Caroline watched him, and in the mirror he saw her watching him. They looked at themselves, and they looked at each other, and whoever looks in that way can always find something. I shall not describe the afternoon when Alan's birthday cake was brought in with the wrong number of candles on it.
However, they both tried desperately to be brave about it, and Caroline might have succeeded.
«It won't be so bad,» she said. «After all, we can grow old together.»
«A nice old couple!» said Alan. «Silver hair, plastic dentures … !»
«Even so, if we still love each other,» maintained Caroline.
«Sure! On a porch! With roses!»
It was that very night, in the middle of the night, Alan was suddenly awakened. Caroline had turned the light on, and was bending over him, looking at him.
«What is it? What's the matter? What are you looking at me for?»
«Oh, I was just looking at you.»
Most men, if they woke up in the middle of the night and found Caroline bending over them, would think they must have died and gone to Heaven, but Alan took it very peevishly. He seemed to think that she was examining him for enlarged pores, deepening wrinkles, sagging tissues, blurring lines, and other signs of incipient decay, and she found it hard to make a convincing denial, because she had been doing exactly that.
«I've a good mind to take that stuff and swallow it down right now,» said Alan in a rage.
«Yes, it's just the sort of thing you would do,» retorted Caroline.
It will be seen that a situation had developed in which almost anything that either of them did would be certain to offend the other.
Things went on like this until the last day of the tournament at Forest Hills. It was on this day that Alan encountered the boy-wonder from California. He saw, as he had seen before, that the stripling had a game very noticeably lacking in finesse. He had tremendous force and a great deal of speed, but no finesse at all. His reflexes were uncanny; it was impossible to fool him by a change of pace. But reflexes are one thing; finesse is quite another. «Why the hell do I keep thinking about finesse?» said Alan to himself before the first set was over. When the last set was done, the answer was there as big as the scoreboard. The stringy boy from California put his hand on Alan's shoulder as they walked off the court together. To a man who has been played to a stand-still, the hand of the victor is a heavy load to carry.