the dazed Watt murmured, allowing himself to be shepherded
toward the door. "Yes, yes, of course. Then--suppose you drop over to my
place tonight, Martin. After I get the Eden signature, I'll have your
release prepared. Hm-m. Functional genius...." His voice fell to a low,
crooning mutter, and he moved quietly out of the door.

Martin laid a hand on Erika's arm as she followed him.

"Wait a second," he said. "Keep him away from the studio until we get
the release. St. Cyr can still out-shout me any time. But he's hooked.
We--"

"Nick," Erika said, looking searchingly into his face. "What's
happened?"

"Tell you tonight," Martin said hastily, hearing a distant bellow that
might be the voice of St. Cyr approaching. "When I have time I'm going
to sweep you off your feet. Did you know that I've worshipped you from
afar all my life? But right now, get Watt out of the way. Hurry!"

Erika cast a glance of amazed bewilderment at him as he thrust her out
of the door. Martin thought there was a certain element of pleasure in
the surprise.

* * * * *

"Where is Tolliver?" The loud, annoyed roar of St. Cyr made Martin
wince. The director was displeased, it appeared, because only in
Costumes could a pair of trousers be found large enough to fit him. He
took it as a personal affront. "What have you done with Tolliver?" he
bellowed.

"Louder, please," Martin said insolently. "I can't hear you."

"DeeDee," St. Cyr shouted, whirling toward the lovely star, who hadn't
stirred from her rapturous admiration of DeeDee in technicolor overhead.
"Where is Tolliver?"

Martin started. He had quite forgotten DeeDee.

"You don't know, do you, DeeDee?" he prompted quickly.

"Shut up," St. Cyr snapped. "Answer me, you--" He added a brisk
polysyllable in Mixo-Lydian, with the desired effect. DeeDee wrinkled
her flawless brow.

"Tolliver went away, I think. I've got it mixed up with the picture. He
went home to meet Nick Martin, didn't he?"

"See?" Martin interrupted, relieved. "No use expecting DeeDee to--"

"But Martin is _here_!" St. Cyr shouted. "Think, think!"

"Was the contract release in the rushes?" DeeDee asked vaguely.

"A contract release?" St. Cyr roared. "What is this? Never will I permit
it, never, never, never! DeeDee, answer me--where has Watt gone?"

"He went somewhere with that agent," DeeDee said. "Or was that in the
rushes too?"

"But where, where, where?"

"They went to