costume, a light, transparent affair that seemed but half inclined to stay in place. The tableau that she presented was effective, but extremely alarming under the circumstances. "What do you think you're doing," hissed Marc. "I like to look my best when gentlemen are calling," giggled Toffee. Frantically, Marc rushed and grabbed a sheet, then rushed to Toffee with some idea of concealing her. Of course Toffee was of no mind to have her obvious charms hidden, and a wild struggle ensued. 

Slowly, the door opened and an aged head appeared in the opening. Large watery eyes fell on the disturbing scene and became even larger. Instantly, the head disappeared and the door slammed. "There, now see what you've done," yelled Marc. Toffee threw the sheet disdainfully aside. "And what do you expect a lady to do when she's attacked?" "Attacked!" Marc screamed indignantly. "Just because another man comes into the room is no reason for you to go showing off like a juvenile delinquent." Marc snorted with helpless rage. "I was trying to cover you up!" "Oh--," murmured Toffee with obvious disappointment. "Joseph is one of the best valets in the business, but also one of the most moral," explained Marc. "I've had to be a regular saint to keep him, and now you--! He'll quit me like a flash." "You'll be better off without him," said Toffee with conviction. "You see! I'm beginning to help you already." Marc tossed a dressing gown to Toffee with instructions to put it on and wait for him in the sitting room. He dressed quickly and joined her there with deep misgivings as Toffee looked up brightly from the divan. "This is a pretty swank apartment, Marc. You must be rich." "Never mind that, we've got to do something about you," he said, seating himself beside her. "I'm just loaded with suggestions," said Toffee archly. "You're just loaded," growled Marc. "You can't stay here and I can't turn you loose in that get-up." He indicated her brief costume. "You could buy me some clothes," suggested Toffee. Silently, Joseph shuffled into the room, halted just behind them and fixed his eyes firmly on the ceiling. He cleared his throat with a bark that would have done Lassie all kinds of credit. Marc started from his seat as though he had been kicked. "Breakfast," announced Joseph in a voice that made it sound like a direct accusation.

As the elevator door closed behind Marc and Toffee, a low whistle issued from the cage. The operator had let them out in the basement, whether from confusion or discretion, Marc couldn't be sure, but decided that perhaps it was all for the best. By keeping Toffee low and behind him, they managed to get to the car in the downstairs garage without 

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