Transvestia

and went off the air.

I hung up and returned to the bedroom to find Dawn made-up as if for a modeling engagement and just settling an ash-blonde wig over her own short curls. She patted it here and there, gave the wig a few short bursts from a perfume spray and turned towards me wide-eyed and lips parted, inviting my approval. "Fabulous!" I said with sincerity and added "wouldn't be surprised if Mario has a little difficulty with one or more of his guest concerning the lovely Dawn!"

"Just leave that to me." was her laughing reply and pulling on her gold gloves she picked up hand- bag and wrap and was suddenly gone in a cloud of "Miss Dior".

I felt, immediately, a little deflated. I poured a long iced drink, went out again on to the patio and looked down ten floors to the quiet square below. Maurice's cab, a fair head just discernible through the rear window was disappearing towards the area of the concrete jungle of Hillbrow that was graced by Mario's pent-house apartment.

The Lobster and Chablis behind or rather inside me I made my face up again with some care and awaited Maurice's arrival. When he showed-up around nine, my indigo mood was quickly dispelled by his racy account of the day's passengers not excluding Dawn. "Holy Mother, Doll!" he said. "Whats got into that girl these days? Every time I drive her anywhere you can see in her face she's heading for the hay is she nympho or something?"

I didn't want to answer that question I wasn't even sure I knew and talked rapidly about something else. The evening wore on pleasantly. About ten, Maurice suggested a cruise round town in his cab and I eagerly gathered up my furs and went down with him to the pavement where he shrouded the meter-flag with his glove, helped me into the back seat and