I hadn't thought about it before, but I didn't. I looked across to where Mr. Ames was lying on the floor trying to make like a mermaid, and then I glanced at the tank and wondered who was in there, for nine little mermaids were trying to get away from the tenth one!
And I began to howl with laughter. No, not for a million credits would I want to walk out on a party like this. Even if it cost me my job, and I was beginning to have a hunch it would.
Not for a million credits would I walk out on a party like this!
Then I had an idea that it might be fun to stir the water in the mermaid tank and see what—I started toward it and nearly fell over a chair. The chair hadn't been there before and I saw I was facing in the opposite direction than the one I'd started out, so I muttered, "What the—" and looked down and recognized my own suit, my own hands, and my own watch-candid on my wrist.
I was back home!
Just me, or everyone? No, Mr. Ames was still trying to wiggle his way across the floor, and at one end of the divan Mrs. Ames was smoking a big black Venusian cigar.
Senator B. Peerpont Weems—or was it?—banged me on the shoulder and said, "Some fun, huh? Nobody knows who's who, so nobody can—" He glanced across my shoulder and grinned and started to move past me. I looked back and saw Margie's cute little French maid coming in from the dining room. Her eyes were wide with amazement—and then I saw her face go blank for a moment. So she'd gone under, too!