Just then a bejewelled matron appeared at the end of the aisle. Inadvertently Marc glanced in her direction, then shudderingly looked away again; the woman's dress had melted away and she had been left strolling amongst the counters in only her girdle. Marc lowered his head and waited for her to pass. "This is shocking!" he groaned. "I can't go around like this, seeing everyone without their clothes! It's indecent!" "But how did it happen?" Toffee asked. "If we knew what caused it, maybe we could do something about it." There was not time for Marc to answer this, for right on cue, with a blast from his whistle, Sergeant Feeney and his underlings swarmed at the head of the aisle. "Duck!" Toffee hissed and, crouching down, vanished swiftly into the inner reaches of Imported Liquors. Marc, followed this example, dropped to his hands and knees and scrambled behind the nearest counter in Sportswear. The official scufflings at the entrance grew louder. "Spread out, men!" Sergeant Feeney thundered. "Check everybody!" Behind the counter Marc settled back against the merchandise drawers. Then he jumped as a feminine voice sounded close beside him. "May I help you, sir?" the voice inquired. Marc, without thinking, looked around. A large, brassy blonde with circles under her eyes had hunkered down beside him. She smiled broadly at his glance. "It's nice to get down here away from the noise and confusion, isn't it, sir?" she said throatily. "The customer is always right in this store--especially as far as I'm concerned." As she spoke, the upper half of her dress slowly disappeared, revealing the most remarkably full net brassiere. Coloring prettily, Marc hastily snapped his eyes shut. "Leave me alone!" he said in tones of anguish. "Please go away!" "Go away?" the blonde said woundedly. "But I thought.... Three men have pinched me already today and, the way you crept in here, I thought maybe you were the more earnest type." "I'm quite earnest," Marc said soberly. "In fact...." "Goody," the girl said. She snuggled down beside him. "Now, what do we do?" "I don't know what to do," Marc said miserably, "that's just it!" "You don't?" the girl said unbelievingly. "You certainly don't expect me to tell you, do you?" "How could you?" Marc asked reasonably. "Well, I could, I guess, if I wasn't a lady," the girl said with a touch of pique. "Why are you squinting at me like that." "The light hurts my eyes," Marc said briefly. "Really, I think you ought to go away." The girl sighed deflatedly. "I guess I might as well," she said. "You're too ignorant and I'm too refined. I must say, though," she added wistfully, "for a minute there I expected great things." She started to move away. "Just a minute!" Marc said quickly. The girl fairly whirled around again. "Yes?" she said. "Have you thought of something?" "Yes," Marc said. "Since this is the sportswear department, I assume you have dark glasses?"