A man who lives a part, not to others but alone, is exposed to obvious psychological dangers. In itself the practice of deception is not particularly exacting. It is a matter of experience, a professional expertise. It is a facility most of us can acquire. But while a confidence trickster, a play actor or a gambler can return from his performance to the ranks of his admirers, the secret agent enjoys no such relief. For him, deception is first a matter of self defense. He must protect himself not only from without, but from within, and against the most natural of impulses. Though he earn a fortune, his role may forbid him the purchase of a razor. Though he be erudite, it can befall him to mumble nothing but banalities. Though he be an affectionate husband and father, he must within all circumstances without himself from those with whom he should naturally confide. Aware of the overwhelming temptations which assail a man permanently isolated in his deceit, Limas resorted to the course which armed him best. Even when he was alone, he compelled himself to live with the personality he had assumed. It is said that Balzac on his deathbed inquired anxiously after the health and prosperity of characters he had created. Similarly, Limas, without relinquishing the power of invention, identified himself with what he had invented. The qualities he had exhibited to Fiedler: the restless uncertainty, the protective arrogance concealing shame were not approximations, but extensions of qualities he actually possessed. Hence, also, the slight dragging of the feet, the aspect of personal neglect, the indifference to food, and an increasing reliance on alcohol and tobacco. When alone, he remained faithful to these habits. He would even exaggerate them a little, mumbling to himself about the iniquities of his service. Only very rarely, as now, going to bed that evening, did he allow himself the dangerous luxury of admitting the great lie that he lived.

Here’s a passage that captures their reaction when Sarah, Vivi and Joanie finally pay attention to their investment account when they have to vote on the purchase of private shares in a bank but then realize that by doing so, they are millionaires.“Today’s price is….”Gina’s eyes fell to her lap. Odd that more of the club members had ever asked her this before. Although she’d been reluctant to share this information, she would have if asked…”one thousand dollars a share.”Sarah tapped in the numbers. Her face lit up, she let out a series of peeps then tossed the calculator to Joanie.‘Holy shit!” Joanie’s jaw dropped. He held onto the bottom of her chair and rocked forward. “Almost a half a million dollars.”Cha-cha. Ching. Big Bucks.“We’re loaded.” Vivi jumped up so fast her boobs almost spilled out of her top. “I’m a rich bitch.”“Eat my shorts! I should have paid more attention to our account,” Joanie said cracking her knuckles. “I just assumed we had about one hundred thousand together, well, we, I man, with just hat one stock? Flipping amazing.”“Gina, you stinker.” Sarah squirmed in her seat with both eyes in a tic pattern. “ Attenzione tutti, first time in my career that I’ve been out to lunch on an account and now I’m psyched to the max.”Vivi beat her chest with her hands. “Hush my puppies. I’m switching to Haagen-Dazs tonight. I’ll get front row tickets to see Jimmy Buffet. I’ll get my lips pumped up and lipo on my ass. Dangit, my list is long”Gina squeezed Joanie’s shoulder. “Are you in?”“Do snakes have both sex organs? Does a naval orange have a navel? Does our flag have stars and stripes?” Joanie shot both arms in the air. “Freaking yes!”Everyone agreed. Unanimous.With the air around them crackling with electricity, the ladies joined hands and shared a moment of financial rah-rah gal power.