Only five minutes later Marc and Toffee descended the steps of the jail and paused for a moment in the sun. Marc, still a little woozy in the head, waited for his thoughts to clear.
"Are you sure he gave you that key?" he asked.
"He fairly begged me to take it," Toffee said. She glanced around happily at the bright spring day. "What wonderful weather," she said. "It makes you want to buy things, doesn't it, scandalous things that hold you in just enough so that you can go all out. If you know what I mean."
Marc glanced down at her brief costume. In the morning sun it seemed almost non-existent. Quickly he took off his coat and held it out to her. "Here!" he said imperatively, "put this on!"
"On one condition," Toffee said. "I want a new dress. I'm through hinting about it."
"And you shall have one," Marc agreed. "No one ever needed one more acutely."
With mild regret Toffee put the coat on. In it, she looked rather like a shapely scarecrow whose lack of hands had been more than amply compensated for by a pair of stunningly formed legs. This settled, Marc shook his head, just to get the remaining cobwebs out, and looked around.
"Are you sure this is all right," he asked, "my leaving like this?"
"The man gave me the key, didn't he?" Toffee said.
"I don't know," Marc said doubtfully. "I can't think quite clearly, but somehow it doesn't seem quite regular."