Marc nodded slowly. "I guess so," he said, and his voice was laden with uncertainty. "But don't you think it's a little creepy?"
"Nonsense!" Toffee cried, dismissing the idea. Then her smile suddenly faded and her eyes became hard. "And while we're on the subject," she said menacingly, "there's something I'd like to ask you."
"What's that?"
Turning to a small table nearby, she picked up a stiff white card, and flipped it angrily under his nose. "Just you tell me," she demanded hotly, "How you happened to pick up the bust measurements of the entire Gaities chorus!"
Marc's expression was one of utter stupification for a moment, then it relaxed. "Oh, that!" he exclaimed with false heartiness.
"Yes, that!" Toffee echoed ruthlessly, placing one hand on a smooth hip.
"That's easy to explain," Marc went on quickly. "It all had to do with the advertising agency. We handled some ads for the Gaities."
"Ads?" Toffee sneered. "You mean they advertise things like that!"
"Well, no. Not exactly. It was really the show that we advertised."