Ian swept into Miss Pennythwaite's office with a breezy "Hello!" punctuated by the clack of his high heels. "I'm expected, so be a good girl and ring the Chief would you." Miss Pennythwaite stood, her mouth agape. "But-but-whom shall I announce?" She recovered her poise with some difficulty.

"Well, you might simply say 'Guess who,' but '0' would probably have apoplexy. Announce me as 'Pussycat.'

No sooner had Miss Pennythwaite announced this name into her re- ceiver, than the inner door burst open and there stood the Chief. "Pus- sycat indeed! Come in, 661. And let's have no more of ‘Pussycat.' As Ian went by him into the inner office, he managed just a little extra twist to his hips, causing the fabric of his silk skirt to swish almost ob- scenely. Miss Pennythwaite stood staring at the closed door for a full minute after it closed. Then she remembered to close her mouth again and sat down, weakly. Then she got a very odd expression in her eyes and before another thirty seconds began humming something from Gilbert and Sullivan.

Within the office of the Chief, Ian had taken a seat, first pulling down his skirt, then calculatingly raising it to just flush with his knee. He dangled one foot.

The Chief noticed this and said, rather too coldly, Ian thought "That's quite enough, 661." Ian wagged the foot once more for empha- sis, then let the motion subside.

"Harrumph." The Chief noisily cleared his throat. "From the gross appearance of it, I would say you're adjusted to this role. Right?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued. "We've been quite busy here ourselves. We've gotten all your papers altered to fit your new, ah, situation. Passport Control has issued you a new passport that looks as if it's been used before, your insurance papers are all changed, even Motor Registry has re-issued your licenses for your motor-car." The Chief pursed his lips distastefully. "I can't for the life of me see why some of you fellows go in for this gaudy machinery." The Chief, who drove a Bond Minicar, registered his disapproval whenever he could about certain others' driving habits.

Ian picked up the sheaf of papers tossed him. “What's this? My new name is to be-Gloria Patria? Come on, Chief! Isn't that just a bit too dulce et decorum?”

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