An hour later, Peter stuffed a suit into the wall safe and closed the
door. When he opened it, there was a small bundle of thin, strong
material which, when unfolded, proved to be a suit--of sorts. It
certainly looked different.
Irene giggled when he held it out. "You couldn't wear that on the
streets. It looks like something out of Flash Gordon or Buck Rogers."
Peter grinned and put in Irene's dress. What he got back was a dress,
but this time Irene didn't giggle when it was unfolded.
"Why, that's perfectly _gorgeous_," she said, in awe. "I wonder if
it'll fit?"
"Here," said Peter, handing it to her. "Go find out. You can lead the
fashion field--by a century to be exact."
Irene took the dress and headed for the ladies' powder room. When she
came back, it was all Peter could do to keep his eyes from popping out.
On Irene, the rich, iridescent material made her look like a queen out
of a Technicolor extravaganza.
"Wow!" said Peter feelingly. "It's too bad they don't have suits I can
wear."
"I'll show you something else, too," Irene said excitedly. "I
accidentally spilled some water on it in the powder room, and look what
happened!" She proceeded to demonstrate by pouring water on her skirts
from the carafe on Peter's desk. The water rolled off without wetting
the material. Then she took the desk pen and shook some ink on it.
"See?" she chortled, "it rolls right off! It never has to be cleaned,
because it can't get dirty!"
Peter looked back at the Buck Rogers suit. "Maybe I can get a tailor to
make a decent suit out of that thing."