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Swallowing
half
an
hour
before
closing
time
,
that
second
dose
of
soma
had
raised
a
quite
impenetrable
wall
between
the
actual
universe
and
their
minds
.
Bottled
,
they
crossed
the
street
;
bottled
,
they
took
the
lift
up
to
Henry
’
s
room
on
the
twenty
-
eighth
floor
.
And
yet
,
bottled
as
she
was
,
and
in
spite
of
that
second
gramme
of
soma
,
Lenina
did
not
forget
to
take
all
the
contraceptive
precautions
prescribed
by
the
regulations
.
Years
of
intensive
hypnopædia
and
,
from
twelve
to
seventeen
,
Malthusian
drill
three
times
a
week
had
made
the
taking
of
these
precautions
almost
as
automatic
and
inevitable
as
blinking
.
"
Oh
,
and
that
reminds
me
,
"
she
said
,
as
she
came
back
from
the
bathroom
,
"
Fanny
Crowne
wants
to
know
where
you
found
that
lovely
green
morocco
-
surrogate
cartridge
belt
you
gave
me
.
"
§
2
A
LTERNATE
Thursdays
were
Bernard
’
s
Solidarity
Service
days
.
After
an
early
dinner
at
the
Aphroditzeum
(
to
which
Helrnholtz
had
recently
been
elected
under
Rule
Two
)
he
took
leave
of
his
friend
and
,
hailing
a
taxi
on
the
roof
told
the
man
to
fly
to
the
Fordson
Community
Singery
.
The
machine
rose
a
couple
of
hundred
metres
,
then
headed
eastwards
,
and
as
it
turned
,
there
before
Bernard
’
s
eyes
,
gigantically
beautiful
,
was
the
Singery
.
Flood
-
lighted
,
its
three
hundred
and
twenty
metres
of
white
Carrara
?
surrogate
gleamed
with
a
snowy
incandescence
over
Ludgate
Hill
;
at
each
of
the
four
corners
of
its
helicopter
platform
an
immense
T
shone
crimson
against
the
night
,
and
from
the
mouths
of
twenty
-
four
vast
golden
trumpets
rumbled
a
solemn
synthetic
music
.
"
Damn
,
I
’
m
late
,
"
Bernard
said
to
himself
as
he
first
caught
sight
of
Big
Henry
,
the
Singery
clock
.
And
sure
enough
,
as
he
was
paying
off
his
cab
,
Big
Henry
sounded
the
hour
.
"
Ford
,
"
sang
out
an
immense
bass
voice
from
all
the
golden
trumpets
.
"
Ford
,
Ford
,
Ford
.
.
.
"
Nine
times
.
Bernard
ran
for
the
lift
.
The
great
auditorium
for
Ford
’
s
Day
celebrations
and
other
massed
Community
Sings
was
at
the
bottom
of
the
building
.
Above
it
,
a
hundred
to
each
floor
,
were
the
seven
thousand
rooms
used
by
Solidarity
Groups
for
their
fortnight
services
.
Bernard
dropped
down
to
floor
thirty
-
three
,
hurried
along
the
corridor
,
stood
hesitating
for
a
moment
outside
Room
3210
,
then
,
having
wound
himself
up
,
opened
the
door
and
walked
in
.
Thank
Ford
!
he
was
not
the
last
.
Three
chairs
of
the
twelve
arranged
round
the
circular
table
were
still
unoccupied
.
He
slipped
into
the
nearest
of
them
as
inconspicuously
as
he
could
and
prepared
to
frown
at
the
yet
later
comers
whenever
they
should
arrive
.
Turning
towards
him
,
"
What
were
you
playing
this
afternoon
?
"
the
girl
on
his
left
enquired
.
"
Obstacle
,
or
Electro
-
magnetic
?
"
Bernard
looked
at
her
(
Ford
!
it
was
Morgana
Rothschild
)
and
blushingly
had
to
admit
that
he
had
been
playing
neither
.
Morgana
stared
at
him
with
astonishment
.
There
was
an
awkward
silence
.
