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The period of this story is the Pre-Atomic Age. The world had not yet become terrorised by its tiniest particles, and the power of the atom was still an entertaining, unproved, Wellsian theory. But scientists, working secretly and hopefully, knew they were on the verge of a revolutionary discovery which would either smash the world or save it to be smashed a little later on, and a worrying fellow called Hitler was about to provide them with their excuse for hurrying on with the job. Meanwhile other less potent forces had exploded the horse-bus, the silent film, the quiet evening at home, and the inevitability of the marriage service.
More to the point of our tale, no socialistic government had yet clasped to its bosom the myth of economic security. If you did not work, or were not sufficiently clever or privileged to make others work for you, your future was a very uncertain thing. It was in this atmosphere of uncertainty that the staff of Spare Parts Limited sat one Friday morning discussing their absent employer, but we may begin by discussing the members of the staff, who were shortly due themselves for a somewhat startling transformation.