Just at that moment one of the doors across the room opened and Toffee appeared before the court. She was followed at a safe distance by an extremely harrassed-looking police matron. The redhead was a study in glitter and pink flesh. Three sequined butterflies garishly highlighted the strategic portions of her anatomy without running any grave danger of obscuring them entirely. A vaporish material dusted with spangles provided a skirt of sorts. It was a dress that fairly begged for blue lights, slow-rhythmed music and unrestrained whistles. Toffee presented herself to the court with a spectacular flourish, then turned peevishly to the matron. "You make another grab at me with those horny talons of yours," she warned, "and I'll flatten you down even with your arch supports." The matron backed away, afrighted. "Then you keep your hands off those zippers," she said. "They don't allow monkeyshines in the courtroom. And just you wait till the judge hears about you breaking out of your cell." Toffee smiled enigmatically. She knew the matron would be deviled with that mystery for the rest of her days. And even if the wretched woman ever discovered the truth, she'd never believe it, though the explanation was simple enough. Being a product of Marc's consciousness, Toffee naturally could not exist when he was asleep. So, as she had promised, when Marc had finally fallen asleep, Toffee had disappeared from her cell to return to the valley of Marc's mind. However, when Marc awoke in the morning, she had instantly reappeared. She had simply chosen to rematerialize in the wardrobe rather than her cell. To Toffee's mind there was really nothing so terribly mysterious about that. Choosing to ignore the matron altogether, she turned her attention to the judge. She waved a hand to the august person of the bench and started forward. "Here, you...!" the matron began. Toffee swung around menacingly. "Stand your ground, Bertha," she said. "You may wind up wearing those false teeth of yours as a necklace." She turned back to the judge and smiled. "Well, here we are," she greeted airily, "wild-eyed and bushy-tailed!" The judge made an indignant choking sound. "Now, look here...!" he said. "I am looking there," Toffee said. "And it's a great disappointment to me." "Young lady!" the judge roared. "Do you want to be charged with contempt of court?" "Maybe I'd better warn you, judge," Toffee said coolly. "Don't bully me; I may forget myself and pull a zipper. That would crab your act something awful. Besides, if you charged me for all the contempt I've got for this court there wouldn't be enough money to pay the bill." "Well!" the judge snorted. "Of all the...!" "You're turning purple, son," Toffee observed mildly. "It's not half becoming, either." The court audience became tensely hushed as the judge reared back in his seat and opened his mouth. But the eruption failed to come.