She continued to rage. But she became so absorbed in an analytical description of Marc and all his forebears, she wasn't aware of the doctor removing the inkwell from her hand and leading her toward the door. It was unfortunate, though, that in passing George's chair her foot fell against the bottle standing beside it. For a moment the bottle teetered dangerously, then righted itself as though of its own will. "Pick up your clumsy wedgies, tanglefoot," came George's voice. "What are you trying to do, trample the place down?" * * * * * Miraculously, the doctor managed to pull Julie out of the office. But he didn't get the door closed in time to ward off her final shriek of outrage. It was enough to sear the paint from the walls. "I'll see you in court, Marc Pillsworth!" she yelled. The minute the door closed Marc leaped for George's chair. Groping for the spirit, he was rewarded with a foolish giggle. "Stop it!" George tittered foolishly. "You tickle!" Marc's hand finally came in contact with what seemed to have the general feel of an arm. He tugged at it. "Get up," he commanded. "We're getting out of here." "Where we going?" George's voice asked. "I don't know," Marc sighed wearily. "Anywhere. Come on!" The arm rose under his hand and the bottle beside the chair suddenly darted into the air and remained there, lazily suspended. Reassured, Marc moved away, and the bottle followed. At the door to the photographer's room, he knocked. "Come on out!" he called. "They're gone. We've got to get out of here before they come back." A key scraped in the lock, and the door inched warily open. Finally, Toffee's head appeared in the opening. "What happened?" she asked innocently. "What a time you picked to play footsie!" Marc groaned reprovingly. "Come on, let's go." The door opened and Toffee stepped out, a wayward vision in a black lace negligee. The garment, inspired by the peek-a-boo idea, had been translated by Toffee's lovely figure into a wide open stare. In terms of visibility, the ceiling was practically unlimited. A low whistle generated from the vicinity of the dangling bottle at Marc's side. But Marc's own reaction was somewhat varied. "Good night," he said. "Did you _have_ to pick that? It's darned near the nakedest thing I've ever seen. It's indecent." "Thanks," Toffee said sweetly. "I knew you'd like it." She fell into a languorous pose beside the door. "By the way, what _is_ the nakedest thing you've ever seen? It might be interesting to know." "You and your evil mind," Marc sneered. "Anyway, we haven't time for that. We've got to get out of here." He grabbed Toffee by the arm and shoved her toward the door at the rear of the office. "We can go down the fire escape, into the parking lot. Julie probably left the car there, and we'll need it."