Henry Farrell

“ Marc screamed indignantly.
"Just because another man comes into the room is no reason for you to go showing off like a juvenile delinquent."
Marc snorted with helpless rage. "I was trying to cover you up!"
"Oh—," murmured Toffee with obvious disappointment.
"Joseph is one of the best valets in the business, but also one of the most moral," explained Marc. "I've had to be a regular saint to keep him, and now you—! He'll quit me like a flash."
"You'll be better off without him," said Toffee with conviction. "You see! I'm beginning to help you already." ”

“ As they moved across the floor toward him, Marc couldn't help noticing that Julie looked especially wonderful. This was the first time he had seen her outside of the office and her white lace dress emphasized all the glamour that her customary business suit suppressed.
"She looks like something out of a dream," he thought and then blanched. He revised the thought hurriedly: "She looks like something out of real life."
"Hello," said Jack. He addressed Marc but looked at Toffee. His face lit up like a pin ball machine. Toffee had run up a winning score. ”

“ Back at the table, Julie, noticing the excitement, reached for Marc's sleeve.
"Something's happening to Jack and Toffee!" she cried, jumping up. Marc, jolted from his reverie, followed after her. They reached the group on the dance floor just in time to witness Toffee's reappearance.
"What's going on here?" screamed Toffee, confronting Mrs. Housing.
"Please get out of my way," said Mrs. Housing regally.
"Get out of your way!" Toffee flared. "You should be ashamed of yourself! Picking up a girl's man when her back is turned—and on public dance floors too! And at your age!" ”

“ The fact that he was accompanied by an extremely racy looking red-head in a black evening gown, lent real shock value to the occasion. To make matters worse, Marc managed to announce his humiliation to the entire staff by rushing through the outer office like a reluctant criminal being taken into custody before a battery of news-reel cameras. Toffee, however, aware that she was cutting quite a figure, (most of which was startlingly apparent) , was like a flower girl at a wedding. She had warm smiles for everyone, especially the men. ”

“ Toffee followed his gaze to the scene before them. The entire countryside, apparently unaware of its inherent stateliness, was caught in a sort of informal gaiety.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Toffee asked.
"Yes," replied Marc dreamily.
"You seem fascinated by beauty, almost starved for it."
Marc nodded and leaned his head back further on the tree.
"Then get fascinated, you dope," Toffee leaned forward to face him.
"Huh?" Marc stared at the girl as though he hadn't been quite aware of her before.
"I'm beautiful too and twice as much fun." It was a simple statement of fact. "Kiss me," she added. ”

“ The only way for me to disappear is for you to go to sleep, then I have to return, but when you wake up, I'll be right back. Once you get it started, it works automatically. Of course there is one way to get rid of me for good but we won't go into that, not just yet anyway. And while we're on the subject, I may as well tell you—I'm pretty sick of that subconscious of yours. A girl could certainly ask for better company. I've never seen so many stuffy ideas. All that will be changed of course."
Marc shuddered as Toffee sat back with a satisfied smile. ”

“ Miraculously, she had somehow managed, during the struggle, to get into the evening gown. She smiled at Miss Clatt.
"I can't stand men who make scenes, can you?" she asked haughtily.
"I make scenes!" yelled Marc, casting a dummy aside.
"You heard me," said Toffee icily as she stalked from the window with an air of outraged dignity.
Marc stood, for a moment, glaring after her. Finally, noticing that Miss Clatt was plucking at his sleeve, he helped her from the case and followed. When they reached the "Ladies' Ready-to-Wear" department, they found Toffee posing before a full length mirror. ”

“ Marc started for the bed room. "I could use a little sprucing up myself." At the door he turned back. "Suppose we make a special occasion of dinner tonight—go somewhere, where the food is especially good? I know a place that serves a wonderful welsh rarebit. I was there just night before last." Toffee's smile immediately disappeared and for a moment her eyes searched Marc's face, which had, suddenly, become quite serious. Her smile reappeared as suddenly as it had faded, but it seemed a bit more set. ”

“ She had managed to get a black evening gown off one of the mannikins and was trying to put it on without removing the robe. This operation led to a series of maneuvers that would have sent any professional stripper into paroxysms of envy. Occasionally she paused in her questionable activities to smile at the crowd about the window and acknowledge the resultant cheers of encouragement. Marc wheeled about and fought his way wildly back into the store.
"Heavens," gasped Miss Clatt as he raced past, almost knocking her down. "What a strange young man—so impetuous!" ”

“ Marc tossed a dressing gown to Toffee with instructions to put it on and wait for him in the sitting room. He dressed quickly and joined her there with deep misgivings as Toffee looked up brightly from the divan.
"This is a pretty swank apartment, Marc. You must be rich." ”

“ Slowly the head moved from behind the figure, dragging with it a small, well padded body, perched precariously atop a pair of delicate pipe-stem legs.
"I need an outfit," stammered Marc. "A complete outfit."
"Oh," replied Miss Clatt disappointedly. "You'll find Men's Furnishings on the third floor—just take the elevator."
"You don't understand," said Marc hurriedly. "It's a lady's outfit I want."
Miss Clatt looked disapproving. "You'll find a theatrical costumer in the next block."
"No, no, I want it for a lady. She's with me, waiting up front there." Marc gestured toward the main entrance. ”

“ Well, it seemed that you were a nice enough guy, but a little mixed up about a lot of important things, so I decided to materialize myself and help you out. And let me tell you, that materializing stuff is no easy proposition. ”