"Nope. They always do. It wears off, you see. Besides, the memory of it keeps them happy, sort of. Or content. I don't know. Never was a housewife. Well, good-bye, dear lady. Got a job down the block." "Right down _this_ block?" "Someone you know? Of course, it's someone you know. You'd be surprised how many housewives we Happiness Salesmen do visit. They keep it secret, of course, like you'll keep it secret." And the peddler walked off with his enormous bag. Jeanne-Marie watched him for a while. While she was watching him, she became Mary-Jean. She could feel it. The electric tingling was gone from her skin. The ravishingly beautiful face and the million-dollar figure were gone. She went toward the front door of her house. She was just plain Mary-Jean now. She liked it suddenly. She never thought she would like it. Mary-Jean suddenly knew, without knowing how she knew, that sooner or later the Happiness Salesman visited almost every housewife there ever was. Somehow, the thought of it made her feel very good. THE END