The captain was unperturbed. “Conscription is based on residence, not citizenship.”

“That can’t be right.”

The captain began to look irritated. “If you don’t believe me, check it out.”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Jasper left the building and returned to the office. The personnel department would know about this kind of thing. He would go and see Mrs. Salzman.

He gave her the box of chocolates.

“You’re sweet,” she said. “Mr. Gould likes you, too.”

“What did he say?”

“Just thanked me for sending you to him. He hasn’t made up his mind yet. But I don’t know of anyone else under consideration.”

“That’s great news! But I have a little problem you might be able to help me with.” He showed her the letter from the army. “This must be a mistake, surely?”

Mrs. Salzman put her glasses on and read the letter. “Oh, dear,” she said. “How unlucky. And just when you were getting along so well!”

Jasper could hardly believe his ears. “You’re not saying I’m really liable for military service?”

“You are,” she said sadly. “We’ve had this trouble before with foreign employees. The government says that if you want to live and work in the United States, you ought to help defend the country from Communist aggression.”

“Are you telling me I’m going in the army?”

“Not necessarily.”

Jasper’s heart leaped with hope. “What’s the alternative?”

“You can go home. They won’t try to stop you from leaving the country.”

“This is outrageous! Can’t you get me out of it?”

“Do you have a hidden medical condition of any kind? Flat feet, tuberculosis, a hole in the heart?”

“Never been ill.”

She lowered her voice. “And I presume you’re not homosexual.”

“No!”

“Your family doesn’t belong to a religion that forbids military service?”

“My father’s a colonel in the British army.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Jasper began to believe it. “I’m really leaving. Even if I get the job on This Day, I won’t be able to take it up.” He was struck by a thought. “Don’t they have to give you your job back when you’ve finished your military service?”

“Only if you’ve held the job for a year.”

“So I might not even be able to return to my job as clerk-typist on the radio station!”

“There’s no guarantee.”

“Whereas if I leave the United States now . . .”

“You can just go home. But you’ll never work in the USA again.”

“Jesus.”

“What will you do? Leave, or join the army?”

“I really don’t know,” he said. “Thank you for your help.”

“Thank you for the chocolates, Mr. Murray.”

Jasper left her office in a daze. He could not return to his desk: he had to think. He went outside again. Normally he loved the streets of New York: the high buildings, the mighty Mack trucks, the extravagantly styled cars, the glittering window displays of the fabulous stores. Today it had all turned sour.

He walked toward the East River and sat in a park from which he could see the Brooklyn Bridge. He thought about leaving all this and going home to London with his tail between his legs. He thought about spending two long years working for a provincial British newspaper. He thought about never again being able to work in the USA.