In the grey coolness of the fashion salon, Toffee, Marc and Mr. Baker, the manager, sank into low, comfortable chairs and accepted the services of a dark, aloof young lady who brought them drinks in tall, cool glasses. An orchestra played muted background music as from a misted distance. All in all the salon was a den of pleasant relaxation. Girls of all types and unparalleled beauty paraded constantly in the latest words from the fashion centers of the world. Some of the fashion designers, Toffee concluded approvingly, were given to very brief and suggestive words. She also noted--again with approval--that most of those in attendance were males. "They come here to make dates with the models," the manager explained. "But then the models come here to make dates with the men, so it's all right. I see Congressman Bloodsop hasn't arrived yet." Toffee leaned forward interestedly. "The congressman?" she said. "Tell me, is this Congressman Bloodsop a man of influence? Does he have connections in high places?" Marc interrupted the answer. "Pick out some clothes and let's leave," he said impatiently. "I have to get home and start looking for Julie." "That can wait," Toffee said airily. She turned back to Mr. Baker with a smile. "You were saying...?" "The congressman has the best of connections," he said. "He's only been in office six months and he's already bilked the nation of millions." "I see," Toffee said thoughtfully. "And if you were me and were picking out a dress that would interest Congressman Bloodsop what kind would you choose?" "Something unobtrusive," the manager said. "Nothing to obscure the view." "I see," Toffee said. "The old gaffer has an eye out?" "Both eyes. And so far out you could tick them off with a match." "Something of a rounder, eh?" "Everything of a rounder." "Sounds almost too easy," Toffee mused. "Here, now," Marc broke in. "What are you up to?" "Nothing," Toffee said with great innocence. "A girl likes to make a good impression on persons of importance." She pointed to the model across the room who was displaying, besides quite a lot of epidermis, a dress made of a vaporish material which had been cut with an extremely frugal hand--almost grudging. "That dress--could I have that one?" "Oh, that's a dinger, isn't it?" the manager said approvingly. "You might say it was practically made for Congressman Bloodsop." He brought the model over with a nod of the head. "Madam wishes to see the dress?" the girl asked. "Madam wishes to see the dress on madam," Toffee said. "The sooner the better." "You got guts, honey," the model said. "And you'll need them, too, to keep this thing up." * * * * * The two of them adjourned to the dressing rooms and Toffee returned a moment later, the very picture of the most recent thing in scandalous _chic_. She joined Marc and Mr. Baker and took her place between them. "How do you like it?" she asked Marc.