* * * * *
She blushed and stamped her big foot on my dainty little open-toed
slipper. "Bill!" she wailed. "How could you? _You_ of all people! It
isn't decent! It--it's--"
And then the funny side of it struck her too, and we were both laughing
like a couple of lunatics. I saw she was waving my arms around in glee.
I sobered up a moment, and warned, "Be careful of that watch-candid on
your--my--wrist. It set me back a hundred credits."
I stood up and looked around. And my scope of interest widened as I
found myself in the center of a lot of confusion.
Roger Wescott, the Interplanetary Transport magnate, was chasing
his mouse-like wife around the mermaid tank. She ran past me with a
frightened look on her face and I grabbed Wescott's arm.
"Look, Wescott," I said. "Isn't that a bit--"
He grinned at me. "That's Mrs. Ames, and she's down to the size now
where I can give her the spanking I've always wanted--" He jerked and I
let go his arm. If anyone wanted to spank Mrs. Ames while the spanking
was good, he had my blessing.