"I hope you know what you're doing," Beryl commented. "I won't stand for a plate of mashed potatoes and gravy, or anything that fattening." "You'll have your choice," Westervelt promised. "I wouldn't want anything to spoil that figure. Just let me at the locker." He slipped an arm around her waist to move her aside. The flesh of her flank was softly firm under his fingers, and he made himself think better of an impulse to squeeze. Beryl stepped away, neither quickly enough to be skittish nor slowly enough to imply permissiveness. Westervelt shrugged. He stepped forward to the blank wall at the end of the file cabinets, and slid back a panel to reveal a white-enameled food locker. It was divided into an upper and lower section, with transparent doors that rolled around into the side walls. The lower half was refrigerated. Westervelt opened the upper to explore more comfortably. Most of the foiled packages contained sandwiches, many of them self-heating. Somewhat bulkier containers held more substantial delicacies: Welsh rabbit, turkey and baked potato, filet mignon, rattlesnake croquettes, and salmon salad. There were sealed cups of coffee, tea, or bouillon that heated themselves upon being opened, and ice cream and fruits in the freezer section. "Si, let me have a couple of 'out' baskets," said Westervelt, holding out his hand. "Empty?" "All right--your 'in' and Beryl's 'out' trays. Do you expect me to go around with everybody's supper stuffed in my pockets?" "Frankly, yes," said Beryl. "But not with mine. Let me see what they have in there!" She examined the array while Westervelt experimented with balancing two empty desk trays across his forearm. By the time he was ready, the girls had blocked him off, and he had to wait until the possibilities had been debated thoroughly. In the end, Simonnetta selected veal scallopini; and Beryl took a crabmeat sandwich for herself and a filet mignon for Parrish. Westervelt grinned when he saw that she also chose four sealed martinis. His own decisions were simple. Putting aside a budding curiosity about rattlesnake meat, he took a package of fried ham and eggs--to see if it could be possible--and a self-heating package of mince pie. For Smith, Lydman, and Rosenkrantz, he piled a tray with half a dozen roast beef or turkey sandwiches, a selection of pie and ice cream, and all the coffee containers he could fit in. "Si, pick out something nice for Pauline," he requested, noting that Beryl was already on the way across the office to Parrish's door. Simonetta exclaimed at her forgetfulness, pushed aside the container that she had been warming on her desk according to instructions, and told him to go ahead. "I'll take her a salad and some bouillon," she said. "The kid thinks she has to watch her weight already." As an afterthought, Westervelt topped his load with a martini for Smith, on the theory that the chief was going to need it.