platinum hair encrusted with jewels that sparkled in
the lights. Her jewel-studded mask was as white as her hair and covered
the upper half of her face, except for the large almond slits for her
eyes. A white purse, jewel crusted, dangled from one arm.

He stopped once before reaching the palms, drew her closer, kissed her
long and ardently. Then he began pulling her on again.

She drew back when they reached the shelter of the fronds. "Champagne,
first," she whispered huskily into his ear.

His heart sank. He had very little money left. Well, it might buy a
cheap brand....

* * * * *

She sipped her champagne slowly and provocatively across the table from
him. Her eyes sparkled behind the almond slits of her mask, caught the
color changes and cast them back. She was wearing contact lenses of a
garish green.

He wished she would hurry with her drink. He had horrible visions of his
wife at home taking off her telovis and coming to his chair. He would
then have to press the switch that would jerk his shadowy self back
along its invisible connecting cord, jerk him back and leave but a small
mound of clothes upon the chair at the table.

Deep depression laid hold of him. He would not be able to see her after
tonight until he received his monthly dole two weeks hence. She wouldn't
wait that long. Someone else would have her.

Unless ...

Yes, he knew now that he was going to kill his wife as soon as the
opportunity presented itself. It would be a simple matter. With the aid
of the telporter suit, he could establish an iron-clad alibi.

He took a long drink of whiskey and looked at the dancers about him.
Sight of their gay costumes heightened his depression. He was wearing a
cheap suit of satin, all he could afford. But some day soon he would
show them! Some time soon he would be dressed as gaily....

"Something troubling you, honey?"

His gaze shot back to her and she blurred slightly before his eyes. "No.
Nothing at all!" He summoned a sickly smile and clutched her hand in
his. "Come on. Let's dance."

He drew her from the chair and into his arms. She melted toward him as
if desiring to become a part of him. A tremor of excitement surged
through him and threatened to turn his knees into quivering jelly. He
could not make his feet conform to the flooding rhythm of the music. He
half stumbled, half pushed her along past the booths.

In the shelter of the palms he drew her savage