RANSVESTIA

Walker is not only the finest model I have, but she's also the most liberated lady I know. Mrs. Mallett, Peggy has definite views on liberation." With a nimble sidestep, a reminder that she had once been a model herself, Barb Cooper was gone, leaving the blonde girl to the mercy of Mrs. Mallett.

"Oh," said Erica, trying to forestall her mother, "what a lovely bracelet. Your tan sets it off so well. Those earrings are so darling as well. Could you sit down with us and tell us a little about modeling? I'm designing a number of dresses for a school show, and anything you could tell us would be invaluable."

Peggy smiled charmingly at the young girl. The earnest grey eyes held precious few secrets. She was embarrassed and trying to cut off her mother from what was sure to be a hackneyed tirade. "I'm afraid we're not allowed to sit in our gowns," she said. She turned to Mrs. Mallett, gently dropping a brown hand, marked by gorgeously long and crimson-painted fingernails, onto the older woman's shoulder. "Barbara was kidding you, too, I'm afraid. She knows that I'm one of the least likely candidates for Women's Lib that there could be."

"Ah, then you'll be in agreement with me," said Mrs. Mallett, seiz- ing on the opening, as Erica groaned inwardly. For the next ten minutes, Mrs. Mallett launched into a vicious attack on Women's Lib, castigating every known leader by attacking every known crime and perversion to their names. Erica was so hot and uncomfortable she could have wept. The model, however, maintained her poise through- out, a faint smile on her perfect mouth. Mrs. Mallett's spiel was ul- timately ended by the continuous ringing of a small bell held by the chairperson of the association, who continued the ringing until she had the attention of every member. Then she launched into a long- winded speech of gratitude to Barbara Cooper, and a reminder of the benefits to be achieved for many charities by their purchase of the wonderful clothes displayed by Barbara Cooper's models.

It was a while before Erica noticed that Peggy Walker was no longer with them. She could not have gone back over the stage to the changing rooms, or Erica would have seen her. She must have slipped out of the main door, behind them, and gone around to the back of the stage. Remembering the way her mother had spoken, and the injury being now compounded by Mrs. Murray's agonizing speech, Erica could stomach no more. She slipped out herself. The foyer was de-

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