eyes of other women and I hop- ed Marie would be one of them. She wore a long flowing dark blue dress with a narrow slit from the neck towards her waist while the skirt was slim fitting with another slit to allow pro- gress. I complemented her on her taste and she said she had real- ised I did not like her "Jump suit" outfit of the night before. I had another frisson of nervous- ness when I realised how well she had judged my feelings, as I had complemented her on its color and the way one could move freely in it, though ones shape was hidden from all but those with second sight. Again we en- joyed a marvellous meal and had coffee in the lounge with the television, on this occasion I said I hoped to see her next week and gave her the firms (my brothers phone) number to ring if any- thing might interfere with the meeting and being told her home address in case of emergency. I then withdrew to my room in sorrow and yet still feeling some of the excitement I had had the previous night (and taking the same precautions before climbing in to bed).

The following morning I was away early, in the green outfit I had started the week, as I wanted to visit another house as early as possible, that had no catalogue yet and I wanted to test my theory about James P. and I was watching for a purple Mini as I parked by the house. I had no luck then but as I left I queried the staff about a young man and found that he had seen the place early the day before, I don't know how I will explain to Cicel- ia the gap in the trail but I am getting closer and I might be in his particular area of operations.

I checked round the arcades without much success and steel- ing myself not to return to the riverside hotel to see Marie, as I needed time to slip into my little house as it got dark, especially to remove all the satisfying traces of femininity, so there was no scent of nail polish remover or worse the reddened pieces of tissue used to clean the paint off (I had nearly been caught like that in early days and I dislike such excitement now,) and all the lovely silken garments stored away, behind the cubboards.

When I rose on the Thursday morning to my masculine role all the burdens seemed to conspire to remove the wonderful lift of the previous three days, there were the bills from the council, notes from friends about pieces of porcelin I had agreed to buy, and requests to contact my only scout (or barker) at present be- cause of his loyalty. I can get other barkers if I am looking for something on commission as

they will work for money and they can enlarge my contacts enormously, but it is for money so the hunt for the thief is in my own time, and whatever satisfac- tion I can get at keeping our business clean as possible, this is why I do not like the "box" bus- iness either but it is so wide- spread that it cannot be wiped out alone. It involves watching the papers for recent deaths and visiting the widow along with all the others on the same quest and getting objects for really only a token payment (sometimes only an offer is made and not taken).

I visited my barker, Timmer, and heard that there was a man looking for an expert to help him find a particular piece of jade,

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Timmer had given my name and had made a provisional appoint- ment for me for tonight in the nearby public house, where most of the dealers gather if they are in the neighbourhood after eight. He hadn't heard of anything spe-

cial in any of the auctions I had not got to, but had got me some of the catalogues so I could keep up with the movement of object even with personal attention elsewhere, and I gave him a small token to help him keep his thirst in some control.

I then went up to the actual auction of the house I had in- spected as Winifred and checked to see if anything had disappear- ed before reaching the catalogue (and not just sold before hand) I also looked out for the Wilson painting and after watching for it noticed that it was my missing object, that had not been sold before or reached the catalogue, I suppose I was surprised too, when I noticed Marie in the crowded room where the auc- tion was taking place. I kept out of line of sight and saw she did make one or two bids, once successfully for a piece of early Chelsea porcelin, fable painted by Jefferey Hamett O'Neale and at a very satisfactory price for such work, so her interest in our outing was based on real know- ledge and not just drifting as I had thought, a real find indeed if she could accept other facets in my world. I got some Blue - scale pieces of Worcester to cover expenses and I could always find someone to help turn them over but I was most interested in the painting that had vanished as I had something I could look for (and even Cicelia could keep her eyes open up in the "Big Smoke” London) and I would have a