"Nick," Erika said, looking searchingly into his face. "What's happened?" "Tell you tonight," Martin said hastily, hearing a distant bellow that might be the voice of St. Cyr approaching. "When I have time I'm going to sweep you off your feet. Did you know that I've worshipped you from afar all my life? But right now, get Watt out of the way. Hurry!" Erika cast a glance of amazed bewilderment at him as he thrust her out of the door. Martin thought there was a certain element of pleasure in the surprise. * * * * * "Where is Tolliver?" The loud, annoyed roar of St. Cyr made Martin wince. The director was displeased, it appeared, because only in Costumes could a pair of trousers be found large enough to fit him. He took it as a personal affront. "What have you done with Tolliver?" he bellowed. "Louder, please," Martin said insolently. "I can't hear you." "DeeDee," St. Cyr shouted, whirling toward the lovely star, who hadn't stirred from her rapturous admiration of DeeDee in technicolor overhead. "Where is Tolliver?" Martin started. He had quite forgotten DeeDee. "You don't know, do you, DeeDee?" he prompted quickly. "Shut up," St. Cyr snapped. "Answer me, you--" He added a brisk polysyllable in Mixo-Lydian, with the desired effect. DeeDee wrinkled her flawless brow. "Tolliver went away, I think. I've got it mixed up with the picture. He went home to meet Nick Martin, didn't he?" "See?" Martin interrupted, relieved. "No use expecting DeeDee to--" "But Martin is _here_!" St. Cyr shouted. "Think, think!" "Was the contract release in the rushes?" DeeDee asked vaguely. "A contract release?" St. Cyr roared. "What is this? Never will I permit it, never, never, never! DeeDee, answer me--where has Watt gone?" "He went somewhere with that agent," DeeDee said. "Or was that in the rushes too?" "But where, where, where?" "They went to Atlantis," DeeDee announced with an air of faint triumph. "No!" shouted St. Cyr. "That was the _picture_! The mermaid came from Atlantis, not Watt!" "Tolliver didn't say he was coming from Atlantis," DeeDee murmured, unruffled. "He said he was going to Atlantis. Then he was going to meet Nick Martin at his house tonight and give him his contract release." "When?" St. Cyr demanded furiously. "Think, DeeDee? What time did--" "DeeDee," Martin said, stepping forward with suave confidence, "you can't remember a thing, can you?" But DeeDee was too subnormal to react even to a Disraeli-matrix. She merely smiled placidly at him. "Out of my way, you writer!" roared St. Cyr, advancing upon Martin. "You will get no contract release! You do not waste St. Cyr's time and get away with it! This I will not endure. I fix you as I fixed Ed Cassidy!"