After the last bit of scaffolding was removed and the machine in full working order, Hugo beheld it, and said emphatically, ‘This will do.’

All London stood amazed, but not at the austere beauty of the whole, for only a few connoisseurs could appreciate that.  What amazed London was the fabulous richness, the absurd spaciousness, the extravagant perfection of every part of the immense organism.

You could stroll across twenty feet of private tessellated pavement, enter jewelled portals with the assistance of jewelled commissionaires, traverse furlong after furlong of vistas where nought but man was vile, sojourn by the way in the concert-hall, the reading-room, or the picture-gallery, smoke a cigarette in the court of fountains, write a letter in the lounge, and finally ask to be directed to the stationery department, where seated on a specially designed chair and surrounded by the most precious manifestations of applied art, you could select a threepenny box of J pens, and have it sent home in a pair-horse van.

The unobservant visitor wondered how Hugo made it pay.  The observant visitor did not fail to note that there were more than a hundred cash-desks in the place, and that all the cashiers had the air of being overworked.  Once the entire army of cashiers, driven to defensive action, had combined in order to demand from Hugo, not only higher pay, but an increase in their numbers.  Hugo had immediately consented, expressing regret that their desperate plight had escaped his attention.

The registered telegraphic address of the establishment was ’Complete, London.’

This address indicated the ideal which Hugo had turned into a reality.  His imperial palace was far more than a universal bazaar.  He boasted that you could do everything there, except get into debt. (His dictionary was an expurgated edition, and did not contain the word ‘credit.’) Throughout life’s fitful fever Hugo undertook to meet all your demands.  Your mother could buy your layette from him, and your cradle, soothing-syrup, perambulator, and toys; she could hire your nurse at Hugo’s.  Your school-master could purchase canes there.  Hugo sold the material for every known game; also sweets, cigarettes, penknives, walking-sticks, moustache-forcers, neckties, and trouser-stretchers.  He shaved you, and kept the latest in scents and kit-bags.  He was unsurpassed for fishing-rods, motor-cars, Swinburne’s poems, button-holes, elaborate bouquets, fans, and photographs.  His restaurant was full of discreet corners with tables for two under rose-shaded lights.  He booked seats for theatres, trains, steamers, grand-stands, and the Empire.  He dealt in all stocks and shares.  He was a banker.  He acted as agent for all insurance companies.  He would insert advertisements in the agony column, or any other column, of any newspaper.  If you wanted a flat, a house, a shooting-box, a castle, a yacht, or a salmon river, Hugo could sell, or Hugo