...all around George$$$ approaching him$$$ crossing his path from every direction$$$ is the male and female raw material which is fed daily into this factory$$$ along the conveyor-belts of the freeways$$$ to be processed$$$ packaged and placed on the market...What do they think they are up to? Well$$$ there is the official answer; preparing themselves for life which means a job and security in which to raise children to prepare themselves for life which means a job and security in which...Here$$$ in their midst$$$ George feels a sort of vertigo. Oh God$$$ what will become of them all? What chance have they? Ought I yell out to them$$$ right now$$$ here$$$ that it's hopeless?But George knows he can't do that. Because$$$ absurdly$$$ inadequately$$$ in spite of himself almost$$$ he is a representative of hope. And the hope is not false. No. It's just that George is like a man trying to sell a real diamond for a nickel$$$ on the street. The diamond is protected from all but the tiniest few$$$ because the great hurrying majority can never stop to dare to believe that it could conceivably be real.