RANSVESTIA

she wondered. Yes, as he continued to strip his makeup, it was ob- vious. She felt very miserable. Then she realized how cryptic the remarks of Ms. Cooper and the model had been, and she grinned.

"That's better," the voice was so different, clear and male. She blinked, hearing the voice. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she backed slowly to the door. Why had she shut it, she thought wildly, closing herself in with such a The "man" stood up, and she cowered back toward the door. "If you'll close your eyes, or turn your back," he spoke confidently, "I'd like to get rid of these." With one red-tipped finger, he casually snapped the elastic of the panties.

...

Erica flushed so deeply that she could feel her hair roots tingle. She turned to go, but her sweating hand would only spin around on the brass doorknob. Behind her she heard a slight rustle on the panties were removed and deposited elsewhere with other clothes. She tried the door again, but couldn't open it. Terror rose. She felt like banging on the door and screaming for help. She took a quick, fearful glance over her shoulder. The man was tying his shoelace rapidly, his shirt and trousers on and buttoned. He looked up at her. From the distance of 20 feet or so, he called to her. "Likely your hands are sticky. Take one of the cloths from the carton there, and wipe your hands."

Hastily, Erica grabbed a cloth and the lock opened. Relief poured through her body. She was about to run when she saw that "Peggy Walker" had sat down in the chair and was wiping over his face with a small cloth.

Her fear subsided to be replaced by indignation. How dare those chic, smart, uptown people play such a trick on people like the Misses Thompson! Laughing at the "hicks" out in the suburbs, fooled by a ... a... She slammed the door and strode over to where the young man sat. As she came closer to him, she was startled by the subtle resem- blance to "Peggy Walker" in the young man - the rounded jaw, the bobbed nose, the lines of his eyes about to crease with a smile but the re-arranging of the hair had dispersed the "hauteur" and pre- sence that Peggy Walker had brought to her display.

"I had wanted to apologize to Peggy Walker," she said bitterly, "for my mother. I think, however, that you ought to be the one to apologize."

He nodded. "I apologize," he said simply. "Now what are you going to do?"