ransvestia

"That's my worry though, isn't it?" I said. “I mean, they'll eventually so what's the difference?"

find out anyway, won't they

"The difference, my sweet

—

is that you're not twenty-one, and that

makes a tremendous difference to my position."

"Oh. OH — but say! That isn't it at all, is it? I mean, there's nothing like that about it at all."

"True of my, er

―

but would you like telling that to a jury? Especially in view more colorful characteristics."

"Yipes!" I said, beginning to understand. “But why do you want to go to all this risk. Tell me, Wendell, what's in it for you?”

"We're here," he said. "There isn't a thing to worry about just re- member about your mother. Do you have any ideas about their plans?"

"I think they said something about going home about midnight."

""

"Midnight of course. I should have read the rest of the story. Well, Cinderella, just remember, at midnight, this yellow Jag turns into the fastest pumpkin west of the Rocky Mountains."

Wendell parked the car and helped me extricate myself and gave me a quick survey before we walked into the hotel. "You'll do, just fine," he said, snapping his fingers and hitting his forehead with his hand. "My God, I'm more nervous than you. I nearly forgot your corsage." He reached back into the car for the box he had taken from his refrigerator, took out a spray of fragile white blossoms and pinned them on one side of the front of the gown. "And now," he said, bowing low, and profer- ring his arm, "it is time to make a grand entrance."

It just couldn't have been coincidence. We entered the Ballroom and I stood nervously intertwining my fingers while Wendell checked my (his) stole. Rejoining me, he said, "For God's sake, don't twist your gloves like that."

"What do you expect from a scullerly maiden?" I asked. "The last time I wore gloves they had a string running up the sleeve so I wouldn't lose them."

"I believe you. Well, now is as good a time as any

12

" and he placed