"Stop," Polly yelled. "Got rules against anyone comin' back 'ere before the performance, y'know."

"Now see here," Sands growled, "I do not intend to he ordered about by a cheap whore."

"This is a theater, damn yer eyes," Polly snarled back through the curtain. "And we're bloody actresses, we are, not whores. And we ain't cheap. Ye'll do us the favor o' treatin' us with some respect or ye can just plain forget about gettin' any o' Dr. Hardstaff's special treatment tonight."

"I am not here to see your damned show," Sands snapped. "I'm here to find someone."

"Ain't no one backstage 'ere except us professional actresses. Now either sit down to enjoy the performance or get out o' 'ere."

"The lady has a point," Marcus said. "I would very much appreciate it if you would remove yourself, Sands. I paid good money to he entertained this evening."

"Entertained?" Sands sounded disgusted. "You call this entertainment?"

"I was told it was somewhat amusing," Marcus replied. "Inspirational, even."

"We're about to start the bloody show," Polly announced through the curtain. "If ye two fine gennelmen want to get the treatment together, that's yer affair. But I warn ye, it'll be double the price."

"Unless you're willing to pay your share, Sands," Marcus said, "it's time to leave."

"I am not leaving," Sands said furiously. "Not until I can deduce what in blazes is going on here."

"If yer stayin', ye can make yerself useful," Polly snapped. "Put out the lamp near the door'."

"I believe I will do that," Sands said coldly. "Let us see just what is going on behind that curtain." His footsteps rang out once more as he turned and strode back toward the door.

"About time. No respect fer professional work anymore." Polly bent down to light a row of lamps on the.stage. They flared to life.

Then she reached out and hauled mightily on a long, heavy cord.

The heavy red curtain moved to the side, leaving a very thin muslin drape in its place.

"Bloody hell," Marcus muttered.

Iphiginia realized that the lamps on the stage were producing strong silhouettes of both herself and Polly against the gauzy curtain. She stilled.

"Interesting," Sands said laconically. "How much did you say you paid for this, Masters?"

"Too much," Marcus said. "I fear I may have been fleeced.»

"They're all critics at first, y'know," Polly said. "The whole lot of 'em. But they change their minds soon enough." She straightened and frowned at Iphiginia. "Get yer urn. 'Urry up, now."

Iphiginia took a deep breath and forced herself to move. She picked up one of the large urns that had been positioned on the stage. It was surprisingly light. "Now what?»

"Strike yer pose. Don't ye know anythin' about this business? Dr. Hardstaff gets right cranky if the patients don't get their money's worth." Polly picked up her um and struck what she undoubtedly believed to be a classical pose.

It finally dawned on Iphiginia that she and Polly were performers in a transparency show.

The transparency curtain acted as a veil, concealing the details of her features while it revealed the clear outline of her figure.

The lamps, strategically situated behind the two women, produced a ghostly scene.

Iphiginia had seen a handful of such productions, but they had all been of an educational nature. The last one, which she had attended with Amelia, had featured an extremely edifying tableau illustrating the classical ruins of

Herculaneum. But the scene staged by herself and Polly tonight was clearly designed to be of a much less elevating nature. Iphiginia had a horrible suspicion that her gossamer white silk skirts afforded little or no modesty. The flaring lamps were placed so as to render Polly's attire virtually transparent.

Iphiginia clutched her urn more securely and held it directly in front of herself. She prayed that it was large enough to cover a goodly portion of her torso. With any luck only a hazy view of her legs, head, and shoulders would he visible through the gauzy transparency screen.

"The goddess on the left isn't bad," Sands drawled with icy sarcasm. "But the one on the right is a bit slender for my taste. What do you think, Masters?"

Iphiginia flushed as she realized that she was the goddess on the right.

"I've never been fond of transparency shows," Marcus said. "If I had realized that Hardstaff's famous production consisted of something this tame, I would have found other ways to amuse myself this evening."

Iphiginia looked helplessly at Polly. Polly winked. "Don't ye worry. We'll impress 'em. She altered her pose to one that displayed her ample bosom to better advantage. "Personally, I'm, real fond o' the job," she whispered. "Much easier on a girl than workin' flat on her back."

"I can imagine," Iphiginia muttered. "Give 'em a few good poses and they'll go off 'appy as larks." Polly shifted her urn slightly, arched her back, and thrust her bosom upward. "They always do."

Iphiginia did not dare move. She kept her urn positioned firmly in front of herself.

"Seen enough, Sands?" Marcus asked. "I have. My curiosity is satisfied. Dr. Hardstaff's miracle treatment is not nearly so entertaining as I had been led to believe."

"I've seen more than enough," Sands said roughly. "Now it's time for a few answers'»

Footsteps sounded on the other side of the curtain again. Sands was coming toward the stage.

"Damnation." Marcus's bootsteps thudded on the floor behind Sands. "Don't touch that curtain. You'll upset the actresses."

"Do you think I give a damn about these wenches? I want to know why someone sent me here tonight. I'm through playing games."

Iphiginia saw Sands's hand appear at the edge of the gauzy curtain. He grabbed a fistful of the fine fabric and yanked hard. The delicate transparency curtain ripped loose from the books in the ceiling.

Iphiginia and Polly were fully revealed. "See 'ere now," Pony scolded, outraged. "What do ye think yer doin'? Yer goin' to pay fer that curtain, not us."

Sands ignored her. He stared at Iphiginia' astounded. "Mrs. Bright. What the devil are you doing here?"

She smiled weakly. "Good evening, Lord Sands. I don't believe we've been introduced."

"Rest assured I know who you are, madam," Sands said grimly.

Iphiginia blushed. "Yes, well, as you have no doubt guessed, I am part of the treatment Dr. Hardstaff designed especially for Masters."

"His treatment?" Sands shot a scathing glance at Marcus, who raised his brows slightly but said nothing.

Sands turned to Iphiginia. "Forgive me, Mrs. Bright, but I find that a little difficult to believe."

"But it's true," Iphiginia said quickly. She cast a quick, urgent look at Marcus, who offered no assistance. "Dr. Hardstaff stated that the results would he more immediate and far more dramatic if I assisted in the treatment."

"Hardstaff is a damned quack," Sands said. "Everyone knows that." "I didn't," Iphiginia said. She gave Marcus another urgent look, but he appeared bored by the entire affair. She began to grow annoyed.

"Come now, Mrs. Bright," Sands said. "Every gentleman in Town is well aware that Hardstaff's so-called treatments for impotence are nothing more than titillating transparency shows. They are staged by pretty little whores who make themselves available after the performance.

"'Ere, now," Polly snapped. "That's a bloody lie, it is. I'm an actress."

"That's certainly one word for your profession,"

Sands agreed. Iphiginia concluded that, in the absence of any assistance from Marcus, she had no choice but to take an aggressive tack. "How would you know whether or not Dr. Hardstaff's treatments were legitimate unless you'd taken one, my lord?"

"Aye, that's a bloody good question," Polly said. "And I ain't never noticed you in this chamber o' the Goddesses o' Manly Vigor before. Stands to reason ye don't know what yer talkin' about."