that he was ready to accept whatever advice the stranger had to offer.
It was one of the tricks the men in gray used to dupe prospective customers.
Agent No. XYQ/384/b broke the silence. “Can you really afford to go on like this?” he said blandly.
“Wouldn't you prefer to start saving right away, Mr Figaro?” Mr Figaro nodded mutely, blue-lipped with cold.
“For example,” came the agent's gray voice in his ear,
“if you'd started saving even one hour a day twenty years ago,”
“you'd now have a credit balance of twenty-six million two hundred and eighty thousand seconds.”
Two hours a day would have saved you twice that amount, of course, or fifty-two million five hundred and sixty thousand.”
“And I ask you, Mr Figaro, what are two measly little hours in comparison with a sum of that magnitude?”
“Nothing!” cried Mr Figaro. “A mere flea bite!” “I'm glad you agree,” the agent said smoothly.
“And if we calculate how much you could have saved that way after another twenty years,”
“we arrive at the handsome figure of one hundred and five million one hundred and twenty thousand seconds.”
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