without opening his eyes, and began carefully to review the dream, for it had left him strangely uneasy. The thing that disturbed him most was the girl, Toffee. As he thought of her, she became more and more vivid, more and more insistent as a real personality. It was strange how real she did seem, especially since she had been so unlike any girl that Marc had ever known. It wasn't that he wouldn't have liked to have known a girl like that, it was just that he had been so occupied with the development of the Pillsworth Advertising Agency that he rarely had time for girls like, or unlike, Toffee. The dream had brought to him a vague suspicion that perhaps something was missing in his life, something like Toffee for instance. There was Julie Mason of course, Marc's secretary, but although she was an even match for any model that had ever been in the office, Julie was still a very efficient business woman, and for some reason that cancelled irrevocably any idea of romance. He sat up in bed and stretched his arms up, over his head, yawning luxuriously. Suddenly, he became transfixed, his arms rigid above him and his mouth wide open. He stared in fascination at the foot of the bed.

Toffee turned and smiled wickedly.

"I almost didn't make it," she said. "Thanks for the lift."

Marc's lips worked feverishly but produced nothing intelligible.

"Well, don't just sit there making faces, tell me how glad you are to see me--and put your arms down."

Slowly and mechanically, Marc lowered his arms.

"Now," Toffee continued. "Let's not waste time--kiss me." She raised herself from the edge of the bed and moved toward him.

Instantly, Marc became animated, leaping from the bed like a flushed bird. He rushed to the window and seemed about to jump, when, suddenly, he halted. Slowly, he turned and faced her.

"I've gone mad," he muttered. "I'm nuts!"

Toffee remained by the bed in a state of acute bewilderment. This wasn't precisely the reaction that she had expected.

"We're not going through all that again?" Her voice expressed utter disappointment.

"Get out!" yelled Marc. "Get out of here you--you--you figment!"

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