"Does she mean what she said, should I go down and try her out for breakfast?" I decided that I would give it a try and so I slipped on a little lipstick, kicked into my mules and threw on my negligee and went quietly down the stairs.

"You are a sleepyhead, " was my greeting. "I thought you were going to oversleep!"

I made the usual yawn for a greeting and stretched lazily and sat down. The toast was done to a turn. The egg was to my liking and the orange juice was never more tasty. The black coffee did much to bring me fully awake. Mrs. Scarcliff made her usual chat- ter which I would imagine one woman would make to another. She then told me that I had better hurry and get ready for work. I felt she was a mother bird and I was her little chick.

Again my day was uneventful until I returned home. I was greatly surprised to hear voices in the kitchen but did not hesitate and went directly to my room. I took special pains with my bath and make up. I dressed conservatively in a shirtwaist dress, sharp hose and combed my wig as losley as I could.

When I went down stairs for supper, Mrs. Scar- cliff, introduced me to a Mrs. Brown who lived down the block in the fourth house. She was quite a visi- tor and seemed to be most interested in my background. I answered her questions fully with the exception of telling her my real sex as the story developed. The evening ended uneventfully with Mrs. Brown going home, not knowing she had spent the evening with a

man.

The next night, Mrs. Scarcliff had invited in several ladies and when I came down stairs for supper, she told me to eat quickly and to get into my very best party dress. She wanted me to help take care of her guests who were to be there for bridge. I helped with ashtrays, filled coctail glasses and passed the cigaretts, to keep all and sundry happy. I served the desert and Mrs Scarcliff appeared quite proud of me

19.