Let’s get this straight. The Duchess disappeared last night. The story is in today’s papers. Okay. She was probably taking a bath--check. She used the soap in the soap dish, and there was a damp towel lying by the side of the tub. Plug drawn. The cops are called in, and go snooping for clues. They find her big diamond ring--huh? Not on the washstand, but wedged sideways against the metal stopper inside the open drain? Okay! So she got too much soap on her hands. The ring worked loose and got lost, and she failed to notice it was missing. Then she dried herself, got dressed and slipped out to visit some of her rich oddball pals.... _Huh?_ You say the Duke had to call hotel help to break down the bathroom door? You say that he was in their living-room when he heard a half scream, and came running? Then a funny gurgle, as of water leaving the tub. And then ... _nothing?_ And when the bellhops broke in, no Duchess? Only the ring, which you people found later? And the open, empty bottle of Madame Outre’s bath salts, which your chemists couldn’t analyze? You mean--Sarge, you mean you think there’s a possibility she soaked herself in those bath salts, pulled the plug, stood up to towel herself and then began to dissolve --and went down the drain? _Oh, my God!_ Transcriber’s note: This etext was produced from Fantastic Universe, June 1956 (Vol. 5, No. 5.). Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Obvious errors in punctuation have been silently corrected in this version.