"Oh, stop your silly yapping," the voice returned. "You're no seasick remedy, yourself."
"What!" Julie's blue eyes were suddenly as hard as ice and twice as chilly. The very sight of them put icicles on Marc's spine.
"I didn't mean it!" he cried. "I mean, I didn't say it!"
"You've made your bed," Julie snapped. "Don't try to lie out of it."
It was at this juncture that the door to the photographer's room suddenly started to open. But it didn't open all the way, just a crack.
"Oh, Marc!" Toffee's happy voice trilled. "Just wait till you get a look at me in this. I'm a scandal to the jaybirds!"
Toffee, in a whimsical mood, had apparently decided to make her entrance a memorable one. Instead of swinging the door all the way open, and walking into the room as anyone else would have, she held it open just enough to allow the seductive passage of one exquisite lace-clad leg. "That," she called, "is only a promise of things to come. There ought to be music to go with this."
Julie, who had remained transfixed up to this point, suddenly came to life with a vengeance. "I'll give you something to go with it, you little tramp," she raged. "How about a fracture!" She started toward the door, but reached it too late. Already it had slammed to, and there was the sound of a key being turned in the lock. She pounded on the panel with both fists.
"Come out of there, you little sneak!" she yelled.
"Go away," Toffee's voice came back demurely. "I'm dressing."