By now, like more parties, things were getting smoky and rather alcoholic. I opened a window overlooking the garden, sat down at one end of a long chesterfield, pulled my legs up onto the cushion, lit a cigarette after installing it in my fancy holder, and sipped my scotch, watching the people before me. I had lost all traces of self-consciousness by this time, and confidently indulged myself in a few more lady-like mannerisms walking more gracefully, smoothing my skirt, holding my elbows in, and playing idly with my beads. No one gave a damn. My solitude was broken by a petite and very pretty blonde neighbor who had always been very shy, so that I was pleased when she came to sit close beside me, smiling sweetly. I wondered if my dress had any- thing to do with her new assurance. She wanted to ask me some ques- tions about my professional work, questions that had obviously been in her mind some time, and I was more than pleased to speak to her. After a few minutes I took our glasses for a refill, crossing my legs as I sat down again, with something of a flourish so that my dress slid several inches up my leg. I noticed her eyes lingering on the hem of my slip and on the slight ridge indicating the leg elastic of my knickers. Women have X-ray eyes in these matters of dress detail, I have noticed. she said nothing to me about my outfit, but Alison told me later how Greta (our blonde neighbor) had enjoyed talking to me, complimenting Alison on her skill in making a flapper out of me, adding the opinion that I was very much of a good sport in wearing everything. Did I have a girdle on? How did I manage to walk so well in women's shoes? And so on and there was nothing whatsoever that cast any pejorative note upon my masculinity.

The back door had been left open to let some air into the place, and a few people wandered out into the garden for some fresh air. As I made my way into the kitchen, headed for the door, Alison and John came from somewhere and went out ahead of me. I paused a moment, not wishing to embarrass them, and then went out to sit on a garden bench set against a tall hedge. I felt the cool air about my legs and the soft swirl of the frilly hem of my dress against my knees. However, being bare-armed, and having only my dress and the fine nylon of my slip over me from the waist up, I soon felt chilly, and got up to go back in. As I passed a huge, old elm, I heard a soft sound, and glancing across I saw a man and woman in a passionate embrace, the woman with her back against the tree. They had not heard me, for my shoes made no sound on the lawn. I lingered just long enough to overhear some urgent whispering that told me it was Alison and John. I moved away quietly. Alison and I are very much in love, and neither of us has any feelings of jealousy for the very occasional flirtation that circumstances allow.