"It is entirely possible." "Then I could easily infiltrate--" "You could what?" "Never mind, my boy. It is not important. I'll be indeed honored to attend your wedding." At that moment there was a muffled commotion from beyond a closed door to our left; the sound of heels kicking on the panel and an irate female voice: "They gone yet? There's cobwebs in this damn closet--and it's dark!" Uncle Peter had the grace to blush. In fact he could do little else as the closet door opened and a young lady stepped forth. In the vulgar parlance of the day, this girl could be described only as a dream-boat. This beyond all doubt, because the trim hull, from stem to stern, was bared to the gaze of all who cared to observe and admire. She was a blonde dream-boat--and most of her present apparel had come from lying under a sun lamp. Uncle Peter gasped. "Cora! In the name of all decency--" Joy, with admirable aplomb, laughed gayly. "Why, Uncle Peter! So it's that kind of research! And no wonder it's top-secret!" Uncle Peter's frantic attention was upon the girl. "I was never so mortified--" She raised her hair-line eyebrows. "Why the beef, Winky? Aren't we among friends?" "Never mind! Never mind!" Uncle Peter fell back upon his dignity--having nothing else to fall back on--and said, "Homer--Joy--this is Cora, my ah--assistant. She was ah--in the process of taking a shower, and--" Joy reached forth and pinched Uncle Peter's flaming cheek. "It's all right, uncle dear. Perfectly all right. And I'll bet this chick can give a terrific assist, too." I felt the scene should be broken up at the earliest possible moment. I steered Joy toward the door. I said, "We'll see you later, then, Uncle Peter." "And you too, Miss Courtney," Joy cut in. "Make Winky bring you and don't bother to dress. The reception is informal." I got Joy out the door but I couldn't suppress her laughter. "Winky," she gasped. "Oh, my orange and purple garter-belt!" * * * * * We will proceed now, to the reception, which was given by my Aunt Gretchen in the big house on Shore Drive. We were married at City Hall and--after a delicious interlude while the cab was carrying us cross-town--we arrived there, a happy bride and groom. I am indeed fortunate to have wooed and won such a talented and beautiful girl as Joy. A graduate of Vassar, she is an accomplished pianist, a brilliant conversationalist, and is supercharged with a vitality and effervescence which--while they sometimes manifest in disturbing ways--are wonderful to behold. But more of that later. The reception began smoothly enough. The press was satisfactorily represented, much to Aunt Gretchen's gratification. Joy and I stood at the door for a time, receiving. Then, tiring of handshakes and congratulations, we retired to the conservatory to be alone for a few minutes. Or so we thought.