Tophi

“ His eyes, like Agatha's and Chadwick's, were fastened on Marc and Toffee. Suddenly, the two erstwhile youngsters had begun to stretch upward like a pair of extending telescopes. They were growing and aging with the speed of lightning, it seemed. In a matter of seconds Marc became once again a tall, serious-eyed businessman ... one that had unaccountably rolled up his trousers to go wading. At his side Toffee was again a scantily clad redhead ... a fine figure of a girl with a fine figure. The effect was impressive to say the least. The Harpers gasped in unison. ”

“ At his side, Sergeant Feeney fainted dead away.
In his subconscious world of gently-sloping knolls and strange feathery trees, Marc lounged on the cool greenness and smiled up at Toffee.
"Sometimes," he said, "I'm not certain which is truly real, this world or the other."
"Reality is only relative," Toffee said sagely. "After all, if you didn't believe in me, I wouldn't exist." She leaned down close and brushed her lips across his. "You wouldn't even be able to feel my kiss. Reality can be happy or sad, depending on how you look at it. If you see only the happy side of things...." ”

“ Everything was suddenly edged in black and gold, and slowly the room began to sway. Marc felt his knees go weak and he started back toward the lounge, stumbling; if he was going to die, he might as well do it in style. He might have cried out only his throat was suddenly dry and stiff.
Toffee fled across the valley and darted into a tiny grove of trees just as the last faint glow in the sky gave way to complete darkness. A driving wind lashed the trees above her in frenetic rhythm, and the darkness was suddenly split by a writhing streak of white lightning. ”

“ For the enfeebled couple it was a long, tortuous climb to the fourth floor and to Marc's office. When they finally made it, they both collapsed into chairs and regarded each other bleakly.
"This is worse than being children," Toffee wheezed. "I could die."
"You may," Marc said morosely. "We've got one foot in the grave already. Anyway," he went on, "Agatha and Chadwick are taken care of."
"It hardly seems worth it," Toffee said, "when things turn out this way. No matter what punishment they get, it'll never be as bad as what's happened to us." ”

“ Marc yelled.
"What's a capsule?" Toffee gasped impatiently. "Don't bother me with silly questions at a time like this. I know the thing is here somewhere."
The drunk turned eagerly away from the window. His eyes became brilliantly alight, and a grin of sheerest delight spread over his face.
"Turn on the blue lights!" he chortled, then followed the exclamation with an offensively shrill whistle.
"Keep your low notions to yourself," Toffee snapped, pushing back a mop of red hair that had fallen rakishly over one eye. "Things are bad enough without you getting smutty about it all. ”

“ Toffee said. "We're not going to grow old together up here after all." She moved away from Marc and to the brink of the ledge. As Marc followed her progress he noticed for the first time that it was still night, but as his gaze moved toward the horizon he saw a growing margin of dawn.
"Golly!" Toffee said happily. "You should see all the people down there! And there are some men with a big ladder on a truck. We'll be down from here in no time at all." She patted her drooping butterflies into place. "They've got a search light on the man who's climbing up. He's terribly big. ”

“ If they can do things like this there's no one can save us but you, Toffy—I always knew you were a clever one. We won't be fools any more. We'll obey you, Toffy.
The Toff:
You're brave enough and strong enough. There isn't many that would steal a ruby eye out of an idol's head, and such an idol as that was to look at, and on such a night. You're brave enough, Bill. But you're all three of you fools. Jim would have none of my plans and where's Jim? And George. What did they do to him?
Sniggers:
Don't, Toffy!
The Toff:
Well, then, your strength is no use to you. You want cleverness ”

“ Meanwhile the insane contest at the head of the stairs had arrived at a state of complete impasse. Four different energies pulled in four different directions, one balanced just enough against the other to hold the urn perfectly motionless. Other than a rapidly deepening blueness in Marc's face, there was no evidence that the men had not simply joined together to provide a grotesquely decorative stand for the urn. That this constituted a condition of utter absurdity, Toffee was the first to realize. She placed herself impatiently at Gerald Blemish's side and raised her hands to her hips. ”

“ All at once, drums throbbed, cymbals clanged and bugles blared with all the crashing enthusiasm that a hundred healthy seagoing men could muster.
Marc whirled about, clinging to the trellis, and stared down at Toffee in horror. But Toffee was too busy frantically twisting knobs to notice. The music swelled and became louder as windows began to fly open all over the neighborhood. On the trellis, Marc was assailed with a chill feeling that there were eyes on the back of his neck. As he turned about, his nose came within a fraction of brushing Julie's. ”

“ Toffee replied gaily, happy at the achievement. "You submerged into your subconscious and dreamed me up a moment ago, so naturally I just dropped everything and returned to consciousness with you. What kind of a mess have you gotten into this time?"
"Mess?"
"Yes. There must be something wrong or you wouldn't have been around bothering me. You never do come around," she added fretfully, "unless something's gone wrong." She patted his hand. "It's because you're such a low type, I guess."
"Holy smoke!" Marc cried, suddenly remembering the day's odd adventures. "You're right. ”

“ I suppose I ought to try to do it again."
"If they think you're dead or dying, they won't be watching for you any more."
"That's right," Marc said. "Let's get out of here."
"Okay," Toffee said. "Just take your arms away from my waist so I can get up."
"Huh?" Marc said. "I don't have my arms around your waist."
"You haven't!" Toffee said. "Didn't you take the gadget from under my arm either?"
"Of course not."
"It's that sneaky George," Toffee snorted. "And when I think of how I was enjoying it...!" She turned in the darkness. "Let go of me before I lose my temper, George. ”

“ It would be difficult to say what the orderly expected to find behind him: a fanged reptile might have made a good guess, a slavering fiend another. It is certain, however, judging from his reaction, that on the list of things he did not expect to find, a scantily clad redhead was number one. Toffee, her legs crossed to perfection, the cylinder-like gadget under her arm, sat jauntily on the edge of the cart, smiling a bright greeting. The young man leaped backwards and froze in a transfix of amazement.
"Auk!" he exclaimed.
Toffee turned to Marc. "Is he doing a bird imitation?" she asked. ”

“ Why can't you be satisfied with just ruining my life? Isn't that enough?"
George shrugged, and reaching for the bottle at his side, helped himself to a long drink. Winking at Toffee, who was seated between him and Marc, he burped and vanished completely. "My head aches," his voice came back dispassionately from space. And almost at once soft snoring began to issue from his side of the car.
"I shouldn't wonder his head aches," Toffee mused. "He's the most loaded spirit I've ever seen." She giggled. "A spirit full of spirits." ”

“ If Marc had grown used to this strange circumstance—that his mind could actually create a living, breathing perfect hellion of a redhead—it was only by virtue of repetition. The human mind can adjust to the wildest of impossibilities in time, if it is only subjected to them often enough.
The smile grew on Marc's lips as he considered the provocative form and features of Toffee. It was a vision to prod the sternest lips into a smile.
Then the smile vanished as Julie's footsteps sounded outside in the hallway. Marc listened to their approach, turning his eyes toward the door. ”

“ Toffee hissed in Marc's ear. "Let go of her before I tear you apart!"
"I can't!" Marc panted, hanging on for dear life. "Do you want me to get spiked on the chandelier?"
"Better that than atrophied to this naked trollop!" Toffee said.
"If I were that statue," one of the club ladies whispered, "I'd never be able to face my friends again."
"Oh, I don't know, lady," said a rather dapper but vague-looking gentleman. "You know how statues are. They're always standing around without any clothes on and leering at each other. In that statue's crowd this sort of thing is just child's play." ”

“ The matron backed away, afrighted. "Then you keep your hands off those zippers," she said. "They don't allow monkeyshines in the courtroom. And just you wait till the judge hears about you breaking out of your cell."
Toffee smiled enigmatically. She knew the matron would be deviled with that mystery for the rest of her days. And even if the wretched woman ever discovered the truth, she'd never believe it, though the explanation was simple enough. Being a product of Marc's consciousness, Toffee naturally could not exist when he was asleep. ”

“ You never miss a chance do you? The minute the lights go out, you've got to be frisking about on the carpet!"
With a tremendous effort, Marc partly opened one eye and looked pleadingly up at her. He managed to force out a few wretched words. "She's ... she's not a ... a shameless wench," he whispered half-hysterically. "She's ... she's a ... a ... a body!"
"I can see that for myself!" Toffee retorted hotly. ”

“ Toffee said. She turned to Marc. "Isn't it nice to meet a girl who knows her own mind—even when it's cracked seven ways to Sunday?"
"You should know," Marc glowered. "You should damned well know, you little heller."
Congressman Bloodsop's study was a mammoth vault paneled solidly with the finest oak that purloined money could buy. It was vast-ceilinged and set solidly at one end with leaded windows of a thousand panes. Beyond the windows, like a magazine illustration, one could see formal gardens softened with twilight. To Toffee's mind it fairly stank with class. ”

“ Shrugging, Marc followed along as she started off down the street. A passing delivery boy, catching sight of the briefly-draped redhead, paused to whistle. Toffee waved at him happily and whistled back.
"Don't do that!" Marc said. "Stop attracting attention to yourself!"
Toffee grinned up at him. "It's myself that attracts attention to me," she said. "You made me that way and I must say I dearly love you for it." Glancing down the street, her gaze stopped at a tall department store building which was fronted by long, gleaming show windows. ”

“ Emerging from the alley, full speed ahead, he suddenly rocked the car to a jouncing stop that sent Toffee flying into his lap. Ahead and behind, the street was jammed to its curbs with automobiles of all descriptions, their horns bewailing their predicament in no uncertain terms. It was the worst traffic jam Marc had ever seen, and by some miraculous maneuver that even he, himself, couldn't believe, he had managed to wedge the grey coupe very nearly into its center.
From Marc's lap, Toffee reached slender arms toward his neck. "You impetuous boy," she giggled. "We love in the midst of danger." ”

“ He turned to Toffee. "Just how are we going to explain all these people to Julie. We can't just say I asked them out for dinner."
"Well, then," Toffee said, "we'll just say you're a group of botany students on a field trip." As though that satisfactorily explained everything she started into the bus. "Heigh, ho! Oh, for a day of biology in the open air!"
"I thought you said botany," Marc said, uneasily.
"One can always hope," she said grandly. ”

“ Toffee snapped triumphantly. "You're not fit to sit on the bench. You're prejudiced. Practically babe-crazed, too."
For one fearful second the gavel poised itself in mid-air, then it descended slowly, tremblingly to its stand, making only a faint clattering sound. The Justice's eyes roved aimlessly around the courtroom for a moment, then darted to Marc.
"Why do you let her go on like that?" he asked. "She's not making things any better for you, you know. Why don't you stop her?" ”

“ Marc said. Shakily he rose from the lounge, and with one last tormented glance at the headless figure, moved rapidly to Toffee's side. "Suppose it ... it can't move ... any more?"
"It can move all right," Toffee said gloomily. "The way it was whipping that bottle around I wouldn't be surprised to see it get up and start doing an Irish jig, though the mere thought of it makes my flesh fairly scamper."
"That's right," Marc mused. "Whatever it is, it seems to be in splendid working order."
"Too damn splendid," Toffee agreed.
"Maybe we should assert ourselves," Marc suggested. ”

“ Marc and Mr. Culpepper followed. Together, they all retreated to the end of the section and formed a sort of huddle. Marc produced the bottles from beneath his coat.
"How are we going to measure it?" Toffee asked. "We have to give them ten jiggers exactly."
"Do I have to think of everything?" Agatha inquired scornfully. Her small hand emerged from her velvet wrappings, clutching a jigger glass. "It was lying around loose on the counter," she explained.
"As in womanhood," Toffee said philosophically, "so, too, in infancy is she a crook." ”