Unexpectedly, from behind, slender fingers were digging lightly into Marc's ribs, and all of a sudden, he was giggling helplessly. "Ye--yes," he simpered like a feeble minded school boy. "My--my brief case!" His hands crossed violently in mid-air, and came down to his sides with a resounding slap. Miss Quirtt, taking all this in with horrified eyes, seemed in acute danger of leaping over her desk and making a run for it. "_Mister_ Pillsworth!" she cried. Marc immediately sobered, as the fingers withdrew. "I was parted from my brief case in an accident," he explained hopefully. "I thought it might have been returned here." "He's been parted from a lot more than his brief case," Miss Quirtt murmured desperately to herself. "Well," Marc demanded. "Is it here or not?" "It is not," the miserable woman answered decisively. "And what's more, Mr. Reece called to say that if you didn't have your campaign in his office by morning, it wouldn't be considered." She seemed almost glad to announce this piece of bad news. Marc's expression became darkly grave, and then unaccountably, it seemed, changed to one of high-hearted glee, as the unseen fingers played lightly over his ribs for a second time. Miss Quirtt clutched frantically at the edge of the desk to keep from slipping to the floor. "You do that once more," she gasped, "and I'll scream!" The annoying fingers withdrew, and Marc's eyes filled with distaste. "You needn't," he said evenly. "You couldn't be safer, believe me." As he swung about, to slam the door after him, however, he caught a glimpse of the dreadful woman, scurrying out of the office like an unbalanced scorpion. * * * * * It was a mistake that Marc started across the room without first turning on the lights, for his very first step brought him in violent contact with Toffee, and the darkened room instantly became the sounding board for a series of scrambling, grunting noises that were far from reassuring. "Let go of me!" Toffee shrieked as she hit the floor. "Get your heel out of my ear, and maybe I can," Marc rasped furiously. In the ensuing mad scramble to let go of each other, they became so helplessly entangled that finally, in desperation, they both gave up. It was in this edifying moment that the room suddenly became ablaze with light. Marc looked up to find Toffee sitting rigidly upright on his chest, her gaze directed at a chair across the room, her eyes filled with horror. For an awful moment, the room became starkly silent, as Julie rose from the chair and stared down at them. Her blue eyes gave Marc a graphic description of a glacial age that he had thought long dead. The light flashed in her blond hair, as she lowered her face to Toffee's. "Get off my husband, you nasty little harpy," she rasped. Dazedly, Toffee did as she was told, and Julie turned her attention to Marc.