nce on the grounds he had little trouble finding the section of open air cages that housed the small animals. Wildwood was built with a complete lack of eye appeal. Down a tarred path he passed through tangled brush and approached a short line of ugly wired cages.
The silver fox was crouching at the rear of the last cage. She stood up as he came near and started to trot slowly back and forth in front of him. Looking around carefully, Drake saw that he was alone. Afternoon crowds had long since deserted this uninteresting section.
His imagination told Drake that there was something feminine about the smooth motions of the animal's body. The black eyes were pleading—Sylvia Fanton's eyes.
"Please," the girl in the car had said. "I must have the fur."
The walk was deserted. He leaned over the fence and said softly.
"Sylvia—Sylvia Fanton."
The fox continued its restless pacing.
Drake doubted his own sanity. If anyone heard him standing here alone, talking to an animal.... He shook his head in disgust and started to turn away.
From the corner of his eye he caught the sudden flash of smooth, human flesh. Whipping around, eyes wide, Drake was sure that for a fraction of a minute a lovely nude girl appeared in the cage where the fox had been. It was Sylvia Fanton. A flash of nude limbs molded breathtakingly, snatched at his breath. Warm pleading eyes, full rich lips that seemed to cry beseechingly.
"Help me. You are the only one...."