Momo's Encounter with Agent BLW/553/c is a turning point in which an attempt to buy Momo’s attention becomes an exposure of the Timesaving Bank’s secret. Agent No. BLW/553/c offers her a lifelike doll, a growing heap of accessories, and a future of possessions in exchange for playing as he instructs and leaving her friends behind. Momo’s insistence on friendship instead of ownership unsettles him; under pressure, he reveals that the Men in Gray survive by stealing the time people save.

The doll on the amphitheater steps

The encounter begins on an exceptionally hot, sultry afternoon, when Momo finds a doll on the steps of the old amphitheater. Children sometimes leave toys behind, but this one is unfamiliar to her and so unusual that she thinks she would have noticed it before. Nearly as tall as Momo, it looks less like a child’s plaything than a miniature adult: its red minidress and high-heeled sandals suggest a stylish young woman or a shop-window dummy.

When Momo touches it, the doll blinks, opens its rosebud mouth, and introduces itself in a metallic, telephone-like voice as “Lola, the Living Doll.” Momo jumps back, then automatically gives her own name in reply. Lola claims that she belongs to Momo and that the other children envy her for owning it. The doll’s first promise is not companionship but possession: it is presented as a prize that will make its owner envied.

Agent No. BLW/553/c soon makes himself known as someone who has been watching Momo. He says she does not know how to play with such a doll and offers to show her. When Lola asks for nice new things, he produces them from a trunk, tossing them onto the ground until a heap gathers between Momo and the doll. The display ranges from a snakeskin purse, lipstick and powder compact to a miniature camera, tennis racket, working doll’s television, jewelry, silk stockings, hats, golf clubs, a chequebook, perfume, bath salts, and body lotion. The abundance is staged as an answer to any possible boredom: if Momo tires of one gift, the agent says, she can have more.

An offer that would replace friendship

After demonstrating how to play with Lola, Agent No. BLW/553/c offers Momo the gifts, one at a time, and promises further things as well. His stated condition is that she play with the doll in the manner he has shown her. He then makes the hidden purpose of the offer explicit: she will not need her friends if she has enough things to amuse her. The gifts are therefore not simply a lavish present. They are meant to draw Momo away from the people she loves.

Momo does not accept the invitation, though she cannot at first explain the struggle she senses herself entering. She feels that she can hear the agent’s words without understanding who is really speaking through them. When he asks what is wrong with Lola, Momo thinks carefully and answers, “I don’t think anyone could love it — her, I mean.” The distinction matters: she recognizes that the doll can be furnished and displayed, but does not mistake it for a friend who can be loved.

The agent replies coldly that this is not the point. Momo, however, answers with the bond his offer is designed to break: “But I do love my friends.” She is frightened by the chill she senses in him, yet also feels sorry for him. That mixture of fear and pity makes the exchange more than a contest over toys: her attention turns from the doll’s desirability to the person trying to sell it, and to what his own life might lack.

The bank behind the offer

Agent No. BLW/553/c tries to recast friendship as a practical liability. He argues that Momo is of no use to her friends in the pursuit of money, success, or time-saving, and that her presence distracts them from progress. In his account, she harms them simply by being there; if she truly loves them, he says, she should help the Timesaving Bank protect them from her. Momo has never considered their relationships in these terms and briefly wonders whether he might be right.

When Momo asks who “we” are, the agent identifies the Timesaving Bank and gives his number. He insists that he personally means her no harm, while warning that the organization is not to be trifled with. Momo remembers what Beppo Roadsweeper and Guido Guide have said about time-saving spreading like an infection. Though she feels acutely alone and wishes her friends were beside her, she summons the courage to face the stranger rather than yield to fear.

She asks, “Isn’t there anyone who loves you?” The question breaks through the agent’s composed sales pitch. He admits that someone like Momo threatens the Bank’s survival: if there were many more people like her, it would have nothing left to live on and would have to dissolve into thin air. He appears unable to control what he says. His face grows greyer and contorts with horror as a voice that seems to come from far away speaks through him.

The confession and its immediate aftermath

The agent blurts out that the Men in Gray must remain unrecognized and ensure that people forget them, because their business depends on passing unnoticed. He describes that business as draining people’s time hour by hour, minute by minute, and second by second: the time people save is taken, hoarded, and consumed by the Bank. He adds that they need more and more because their numbers keep growing. This confession transforms the earlier offer. The doll and its mountain of accessories were not a harmless attempt to entertain Momo; they were part of an effort to isolate her from the friendship and attentive presence that obstruct the Bank’s business.

As the confession ends, the agent claps his hands over his mouth and stares at Momo, then seems to come out of a trance. He protests that she has been spying on him and blames her for making him ill. He grabs and shakes her before jumping up, looking in every direction like a cornered animal, and rushing toward his car. Then the dolls and scattered belongings fly back into the trunk as if an explosion were reversing itself. The trunk slams shut, and the car speeds away, spitting grit and pebbles from its wheels.

Momo remains seated for a long time, trying to understand what she has heard. As the dreadful chill leaves her limbs, her thoughts grow clearer, and she can remember everything now that she has heard the agent’s real voice. Nearby, the trampled butt of a small gray cigar smolders in the sun-baked grass. The scene ends not with Momo taking the offered gifts, but with their abrupt disappearance and the residue of the agent’s presence dwindling to ash. Her refusal has uncovered both the Bank’s dependence on stolen time and its need to stay unseen.