"Stop that!" he yelled.
"I was only brushing you off," George's voice said, near at hand. "You got a little messed up on the floor."
"I'll dust myself," Marc said. "Thank you, just the same."
"I sure wish I could think of a way to straighten things out for you."
"Just forget it," Marc said. "Don't trouble your invisible little head about it."
"You need money," George mused. "That's the key to the whole problem as I see it."
"Sometimes," Marc said sarcastically, "you show signs of true genius."
George made strange musing noises for a moment. Then, unexpectedly, he asked, "Where's Toffee?"
Marc started visibly. He hadn't thought of Toffee in a long time, and he didn't particularly want to think of her now. One supernatural creature at a time was more than enough. Especially at a time like this.