started downstairs.

Stepping into the living room, where two bridge tables were set up and all the ladies were waiting, I stopped, smiled broadly and said gaily, "Sorry I'm late girls."

The chorus of surprised gasps and gushing comments were impossible to assimilate, but they were all in good humor and enjoyment, except for a frown and, "Fred, for heaven's sake!" from Mary. Someone piped up, "Well, if it isn't Freida again, with her pretty legs."

I just said, "Well, let's play cards. Where do I sit?" as I took off my furs and hat, and patted at my hair.

Mary piped in with "Fred, you're not going to stay in those silly clothes! And you'll just ruin that suit of mine, stretching it all out of shape."

Several of the girls immediately talked her down.

"Of course, Frieda can stay. She looks just darling, and you know you've had that suit for years, Mary." one of them said.

"Don't be an old spoil-sport, Mary!" another chimed in. And finally Carol said, “I told you he wanted to be treated like just one of the girls, and you all agreed."

So Mary said, "Well, allright, whatever you all want. Let's play cards."

It was a wonderful afternoon. Gradually as everyone's attention became more and more focused on the bridge game, I became more and more accepted and taken for granted. I was glad I was not at Mary's table until toward the end of the afternoon. I noticed that she couldn't bring herself to call me Freida, as the others did, but just used "honey" or "sweetheart". At least she didn't say "Fred".

As the afternoon wore on, I had occasion to move around, changing tables, going to the powder room where I could admire my reflection in the mirror and check powder and lipstick, emptying ash trays when dummy, and the like. This evoked some

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