LOCUST-YEARS

(Continued from page 13)

orous Lesbian, she thought, the siren that Connio wants me to be.

Smiling to herself, like a mischievous child, she made her preparations. She put on the silver and black hostoss coat, made up her face, and as an extra little touch, sho mixed horself a cocktail from the wellstocked liquor cabinet. She felt young and excited as she stepped back, surveying her reflection in the wide mirror, looking for the old Marion Taylor. She couldn't find hor. Then suddenly, she was reminded of some words that she had heard long ago how long ago, somewhere, sometime; words that went something like: "I will restore to thee the years that the locusts hath eaten..." Restored years, Marion thought. Looust-years, restored all in one evening. But then, she thought, time is relative. Perhaps the locust-eaten years can be restored. Perhaps. It was while she was thinking this that sho heard the doorbell. She had one wild moment of panio; thon calmly, she walked to the door and opened it.

"Oh, hi, "Connio said. "I was wondering if you were still up." Then she backed away, slightly wide-eyed, and whistled softly. "Expecting company?" she asked.

"No," Marion replied. "I'm just enjoying my last fling in New York. Sort of a farewell party for Marion Taylor."

"Well!" Connie retorted. "You sure did it up right." Then she added, "I've got a surprise for you, Marion. I want you to meet my kid-sister."

Marion nodded, smiling. "Why, certainly, my dear, I would love to."

Connie strode into the room pulling someone after hor.

Marion stared at the tall, masculine woman with the short, iron-grey hair. Thon the woman laughed, "It's a family joke," she explained. "I'm really Connie's

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