her long mane of blonde-

streaked hair.

to

as

"Be a good girl in there," she snapped, and was pleased see 'her' tense, her figure becoming more feminine she held her breath, and 'her' chest heaved forward. It was funny that 'he' was so respon- sive to Consuela, the secretary thought, so eager for her praise. Yet 'she' was so indifferent to Isabel Ortega, to whom Esteban was supposed to have ties. Consuela brooded on that and saw perhaps a way to counter Salluca's influence over 'her' in the future

--

but when she thought of the youth she had seen that morning in the bathroom, how he had looked before 'he' became feminine and beautiful, her lip curled in distaste.

VIII

IN A MAN'S WORLD

The Cabinet was a large, diverse group, and, when all twenty-five members were present, was usually a rancorous affair. The Junta, still the offi- cial power of the State, would one day give up its power, and then this group would take over the direction of the State, the heavy hand of the Army having been removed.

'Irena' was not really pre- pared to be inspected and received by twenty-five pairs of all at once, many of eyes them hostile to 'her'. The hand about her waist steadied her for a moment and gently guided her to the chair where Irena always sat to preside over the long, interminable Cabinet meetings. 'She' didn't doubt that Salluca wanted them to think that he and 'she'.

she shuddered as her black, pleated dress rustled beneath her as 'she' sat. She glanced at the long agenda laid in ‘her'

place, and long hair fell in front of her face and about 'her' neck. 'She' shivered again as she pushed back 'her' hair and her tight bra pulled and her arm had to move oddly. It was funny how different it was to be a woman. Her lacquered fingernails shone as she reached for the paper in front of her. . .and she had trouble moving it as her long nails got in her way. She felt herself flush, and put her hands down. into the soft silky lap, right on top of her stock- ings where the slip ran over the tops of her bare thighs. She was blushing as she thought how nice, how female, 'she' looked in 'her' dainty, feminine underwear.

She knew she had color in her face as she glanced up and about, through dark, thick, long lashes. 'She' blinked but then 'her' eyes fastened on one man who was staring at her, his mouth agape. Abrado Camar! Waht was he.....but, of course, it was 'she' who had appointed him as new Justice Minister.....And there was Gonzalo Diaz beside him, a Minister 'without portfolio.' No wonder the people about the table were so tense and had such strained looks on their faces.

"Forgive me, Senora," said a soft, masculine voice. Like 'her' they all turned to look at the balding, brown-skinned Abrado Camar. "I should not stare. It was most impolite,' the white-haired professor went "I was struck, however, by the strong family resem- blance...... You see, I knew your brother, Esteban, and you and he.......well, the Varga blood must run strongly in both of you."

on.

'Irena' could feel the vein at her temple pumping so hard that 'she' thought 'she' might burst at any moment. She didn't dare to speak, just nod- ding and giving the man a po- lite smile. Beneath the level

-23-

of the table she pressed her stockinged knees together and then carefully arranged the hem of her skirt and the embroidered slip that 'she' wore just below 'her' dress.

""

"Our President has asked me....... began Francisco Sal- luca, a proud smile on his lips. But it was not going to be that easy.

"Senor Salluca," cut in Osvaldo Tucuman, the militant Minister of Mines, “Our Pres- ident is the Chairman of all Cabinet meetings. We have al- ways agreed this."

Salluca glowered at the challenge, and seemed on the point of an angry rebuke when he looked suddenly at Irena. She gave a shake of her long, blonde hair, and her red, glossy mouth quivered just a little.

""

"I-I will then take the chair, Francisco, she said in 'her' low voice. Her delivery was relaxed and slow, as Con- suela had stressed that 'she' had to speak. 'She' touched the light-colored bandage at her throat and more than one Minister was reminded of the attempt on on her life. It was interesting to 'her' to see which eyes fell away from 'her' face after that. 'She' almost forgot all about her femaleness and 'her' feminine dress as indig- nation rose in her mind at those who seemed obviously implicated in some manner in the attack upon 'her'......for a moment she almost was Irena, prepared to call for the Revo- lutionary Guard, now the Interior Police, to take of 'her' enemies.

care

'Her' darkly outlined eyes had hardly a chance to glitter at 'her' enemies before a familiar whine drew 'her' back into realization of who she was--not

a

woman despite her panties, stockings, dress, high heels and such--and definitely not yet 'Irena.'

"Senora

Presidente,"

whined Ernesto Figueroa. “I demand to know why members