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"Oh, dear, no! I'm used to being treated like a lady. I'm also accustomed to being called Cynthia - I wish you would."

"Oh? What's the matter with 'Ted'?”

"Nothing-it just makes me uncomfortable when I'm dressed this

way."

Harry reflected for a moment. "Yeah, I can see how it might-would indicate that a person had seen through your disguise. Which is pretty good," he added, peering in fascination at Cynthia's prettily made-up face, "Your wig is particularly clever-can't see any trace of the cap."

"There isn't any. I'm not wearing a wig today."

"That's your own hair?" Harry was astounded, "I thought you were darker."

"She smiled back, "Only my hairdresser knows," stroking her long

tresses.

"Good Heavens! I didn't think you would have to go so far in mimick- ing one of those TV freaks." Harry continued his scrutiny of her face, which was smiling proudly. "You must get an awfully close shave - what kind of razor do you use? I'll have to try that brand myself.”"

"I don't use a razor, Chief."

"No? Then how do you?" Harry began, in puzzlement.

"I don't need to shave anymore," Cynthia explained.

"What happened to your beard!?" Harry couldn't understand it.

"Electrolysis," she spelled out.

"Ye gods! Those weirdos made you zap your whiskers?"

"Uh-huh. Had to convince them I was in earnest. And that's not all." Cynthia saw a frown appear on Harry's face as his eyes flicked over hers, searching. She tugged one of her gold hoop earrings to give him a clue.

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