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Updated: May 21, 2025
But she could not hold her thoughts. A voice was continually whispering to her not Louis Fores' voice, but a voice within herself, that she had never clearly heard before. Alternatively she scorned it and trembled at it. She stopped in front of the huge window of Wason's Provision Emporium. "Is this the first house of call?" asked Louis airily, swinging the reticule and his stick together.
"Well " she hesitated. "Mrs. Tams told me they were selling Singapore pineapple at sevenpence-halfpenny. Mas. Maldon fancies pineapple. I've known her fancy a bit of pineapple when she wouldn't touch anything else.... Yes, there it is!" In fact, the whole of the upper half of Wason's window was yellow with tins of preserved pineapple.
"Hm!" murmured Rachel. "That may be all very well for Mrs. Tams...." A moment later she said "It's always like that with Wason's shops for the first week or two!" And her faintly sarcastic tone of a shrewd housewife immediately set Wason in his place Wason with his two hundred and sixty-five shops, and his racing-cars, and his visits to kings and princes.
She despised that multitude of simpletons who, full of the ancient illusion that somewhere something can regularly be had for nothing, imagined that Wason's bacon and cheese were cheap because he sold preserved pineapple at a penny less than anybody else in the town. And she despised the roaring, vulgar success of advertising and electricity.
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