He cut off the water, wrapped himself in a towel, kicked open the bathroom door and stalked out into the living room. The mink-dyed skunk galloped past him back into the bathroom and stamped its paws angrily when it discovered the tub was wet. Cooper had a fire going in the practical fireplace, and a pot of coffee tactfully exposed on an end table alongside one of the wing chairs. It was half-past ten and the Siamese were enjoying their bedtime magic hour, skittering crazily up and down the apartment with crossed eyes and flattened ears. Lennox dried his back and rump carefully before he sat down. He poured black coffee and drank it as though it were poison hemlock. Cooper came in from the kitchen and appeared to be having a magic hour of his own, for he was wearing his chef's hat and a dinner jacket. Lennox stared at him. "Black tie tonight, Scout Lennox," Cooper told him, removing the hat. "All out for the Christmas jamboree." "What the hell, Sam?" "Pull in your feet." Cooper poked at the logs with an old bayonet. "Must apologize, Sir Jasper. Only a cad would touch another man's hearth. They teach you that in Islip? Rules for Perfect Behaviour. Like passing the port to the left." "They taught me nothing in Islip," Lennox growled. Nevertheless he filed this lesson away, until he caught the gleam in Cooper's eye. He squirmed a little. "What's this black tie routine? More Perfect Behaviour?" "I'll tell you, son. There's no food in the house. So I thought we'd accept Alice McVeagh's invitation and free-load. She's giving a monster rally. A debutante party. Turkey, ham, chutney, kedgeree, boiled mutton, boiled guests, boiled debs--" "Who's Alice McVeagh?" "You'll like her. She always passes the port to the left. Gives Square parties. Strictly Square. Nobody in the business. A pleasant change." "I'm staying home." "Not a crust in the house, Jake." "I'm staying home." "Um. You want to brood, eh? In F-minor." "Sam, I need a party like a hole in the head." "The hole's there already. You need to fill it. Get dressed. We'll go mingle." "Sit down." "Get dressed." "Sit down." Cooper cocked an eye at Lennox, then sat down in the facing wing chair. Instantly one of the Siamese leaped on him. Cooper calmly extinguished it with the chef's hat and deposited it on the floor where it struggled ecstatically. "Death to the invaders," Cooper murmured. After a long pause, Lennox pointed to the frantic hat and said: "Look, Sam. That's me." "The cat in the hat?" "Yes." Cooper gazed at Lennox with solemn perplexity. "You said you were like a smoke-stack." Lennox waved his hand irritably. "I'm fighting blind, Sam. I'm in a hassle. The show's in a hassle. You know about my blackout. You know about Mason lousing the grand prize tonight?" Cooper nodded.