“In fact, as one of the directors pointed out, if the recordings were banned, so much the better. They could make more money on a smaller output, because the price would promptly soar and all the vigilance of the Customs Officials couldn’t block every leak. It would be Prohibition all over again.
“You will scarcely be surprised to hear that by this time Georges had somewhat lost interest in the gastronomical angle. It was an interesting but definitely minor possibility of the invention. Indeed, this had been tacitly admitted by the directors as they drew up the articles
of association, for they had included the pleasures of the cuisine among ‘subsidiary rights.’
“Georges returned home with his head in the clouds, and a substantial check in his pocket. A charming fancy had struck his imagination. He thought of all the trouble to which the gramophone companies had gone so that the world might have the complete recordings of the Forty-eight Preludes and Fugues or the Nine Symphonies. Well, his new company would put out a complete and definite set of recordings, performed by experts versed in the most esoteric knowledge of East and West. How many opus numbers would be required? That, of course, had been a subject of profound debate for some thousands of years. The Hindu textbooks, Georges had heard, got well into three figures. It would be a most interesting research, combining profit with pleasure in an unexampled manner . . . . He had already begun some preliminary studies, using treatises which even in Paris were none too easy to obtain.
“if you think that while all this was going on, Georges had neglected his usual interests, you are all too right. He was working literally night and day, for he had not yet revealed his plans to the Professor and almost everything had to be done when the lab was closed. And one of the interests he had had to neglect was Yvonne.
” Her curiosity had already been aroused, as any girl’s would have been. But now she was more than intrigued-she was distracted. For Georges had become so remote and cold. He was no longer in love with her.
“It was a result that might have been anticipated. Publicans have to guard against the danger of sampling their own wares too often-I’m sure you don’t, Drew-and Georges had fallen into this seductive trap. He had been through that recording too many times, with somewhat debilitating results. Moreover, poor Yvonne was not to be compared with the experienced and talented Susette. It was the old story of the professional versus the amateur.
“All that Yvonne knew was that Georges was in love with someone else. That was true enough. She suspected that he had been unfaithful to her. And that raises profound philosophical questions we can hardly go into here.
“This being France, in case you had forgotten, the outcome was inevitable. Poor Georges! He was working late one night at the lab, as usual, when Yvonne finished him off with one of those ridiculous
ornamental pistols which are de rigueur for such occasions. Let us drink to his memory.”
“That’s the trouble with all your stories,” said John Beynon. “You tell us about wonderful inventions, and then at the end it turns out that the discoverer was killed, so no one can do anything about it. For I suppose, as usual, the apparatus was destroyed?”
“But no,” replied Purvis. “Apart from Georges, this is one of the stories that has a happy ending. There was no trouble at all about Yvonne, of course. Georges’ grieving sponsors arrived on the scene with great speed and prevented any adverse publicity. Being men of sentiment as well as men of business, they realized that they would have to secure Yvonne’s freedom. They promptly did this by playing the recording to le Maire and le Pre fet, thus convincing them that the poor girl had experienced irresistible provocation. A few shares in the new company clinched the deal, with expressions of the utmost cordiality on both sides. Yvonne even got her gun back.”
“Then when-” began someone else.
“Ah, these things take time. There’s the question of mass production, you know. It’s quite possible that distribution has already commenced through private-very private-channels. Some of those dubious little shops and notice boards around Leicester Square may soon start giving hints.”
“Of course,” said the New England voice disrespectfully, “you wouldn’t know the name of the company.”
You can’t help admiring Purvis at times like this. He scarcely hesitated.
“Le Societe Anonyme d’Aphrodite,” he replied. “And I’ve just remembered something that will cheer you up. They hope to get round your sticky mails regulations and establish themselves before the inevitable congressional inquiry starts. They’re opening up a branch in Nevada: apparently you can still get away with anything there.” He raised his glass.
“To Georges Dupin,” he said solemnly. “Martyr to science. Remember him when the fireworks start. And one other thing-”
“Yes?” we all asked.
“Better start saving now. And sell your TV sets before the bottom drops out of the market.”