safely to the street. There, at the curb, we had to wait again amidst the milling crowd until we could get a cab to drive us home. It was quite a strange feeling standing there under the eyes of some policeman dir- ecting the people through the traffic across the street, flanked by some Nazi men who tried to make themselves important in their brown or black uniforms.

When the door of Mrs. K.'s apartment finally cl- osed behind us, I could almost feel her relief, while I myself still shivered under the excitement and exulta- tion of our adventure. I hardly could get myself to be- gin the unavoidable change back to my male personality. No, Gina did not want to let go so fast, and would not part with undies, stockings and girdle. Thus, she kept them on under my male clothes all the way to my hotel room. There, how could I go to sleep that night, except being Gina in her pretty nightgown with bra and pantie completing the image?

Next morning, it took me a long time to get up and dress, torn between Gina and my male self. This time, Gina won as far as the inner shell was concerned with stockings and girdle, chemise and pantie next to my skin while the outside was covered by my male at-

The rememberance of yesterday's adventure still sent shivers up and down my spine, and the feel of Gina's dainty underwear told me that she was still there, all along the way back to my apartment at camp, where Monday morning found a well dressed officer at- tending to his rough and tough military duties.

PROBLEMS, ALWAYS PROBLEMS!

I've followed the Chevalier plan, And femme-dress whenever I can,

Now my conscience is clear

But one thing is queer

I feel guilty when dressed as man!

SHEILA 30-B-2 FPE

40.