"Surely it is all right," she said, "for a woman, sometimes, to be a little feminine."

"Perhaps," I said. "The question is indeed a thorny one."

"I have heard it debated," she said.

"Are you joking?" I asked. I had thought I had been joking.

"No," she said.

"I see," I said.

"In my view," she said, "it is all right for a woman, once in a while, to be feminine, if just a little bit."

"I see," I said. I wondered if there were a world anywhere where women, or at least a certain sort of woman, would have no choice but to be totally feminine, and all the time. I smiled to myself. I thought of the fictional world of Gor, which obviously did not exist. Gorean men, as I understood it, did not accept pseudomasculinity in their female slaves; this, then, left the female slaves no alternative but to be true women.

"But you are not just a little feminine tonight;" I said. "You are deliciously feminine."

"Do not speak to me in that fashion," she said.

"Even if it is true?" I asked.

"Particularly if it is true," she said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I am a person," she said.

"Would you settle for a `deliciously feminine person'?" I inquired.

"Do not demean my personhood," she said.

"What about `deliciously feminine little female animal'?" I asked.

"What a beast you are," she said. "It sounds like you want to put a collar on me and lead me away to your bed."

"That would be pleasant," I said.

"You think I'm sexually attractive, don't you?" she asked. "Yes," I said. "Does that disturb you?"

"No," she said, "not really. I am aware that some men have found me sexually attractive. Some have even tried to take me in their arms and kiss me."

"Horrifying," I said.

"I did not permit them to be successful," she said.

"Good for you," I said.

"I insist on being totally respected," she said.

"Have you ever considered," I asked, "that your desire to be respected may interfere with the development of your sexuality?"

"Sex," she said, "is only a tiny and unimportant part of life. It must be seen in its proper perspective."

"Sexuality," I said, "is radically central to the human phenomenon."

"No, no," she said. "Sex is unimportant, irrelevant and immaterial. Better put, it must be placed in its proper perspective. This is something which is understood by all politically enlightened persons, both men and women. Indeed, sexuality is a threat and a handicap to the achievement of a true civilization. It must be ruthlessly curbed and controlled."

"Nonsense," I said.

"Nonsense?" she asked.

"Yes, nonsense," I said. "Sex may be a handicap to the achievement of a certain sort of civilization," I admitted, "but I do not think I would relish that sort of civilization in which it would be a handicap. Surely it is possible to at least consider a civilization which would not be inimical to the nature of human beings but compatible with their desires and needs. Perhaps in such a society, sexuality would not need to be suppressed but might be permitted to flower."

"It is impossible to talk with you," she said. "You are too unenlightened."

"Perhaps," I said. "But one thing, amidst all these complexities, stands out clearly."

"What is that?" she asked.

"That you," I said, "undeniably and nonrepudiably, are an extremely lovely and exciting young woman"

"You are terrible," she said, head down, smiling.

"It is easy to see why the slavers of Gor would be interested in you," I said.

"What a beast you are," she laughed.

I was pleased to see that I had relieved her mind on this issue.

"And your outfit tonight," I said, "like yourself, whether you like it or not, is deliciously feminine."

She looked down at herself. She, without really thinking, smoothed the sheath on her hips. It was a very natural gessure. I supposed slaves might be taught such a gesture. But with Miss Henderson it was totally natural. I found her very exciting. I wondered if there were such things as natural slaves. If there were, I was confident the lovely Miss Henderson would qualify.

"What a hateful and unteachable brute you are," she smiled.

"I have never seen you wear anything really feminine before," I said. "What brought about this sudden change of heart, that perhaps it might be all right for a woman to be just a little bit feminine?"

She put down her head.

"Surely this represents a change," I said.

"Yes, perhaps;" she said. "I do not know."

"You bought this outfit recently, didn't you?" I asked.

"Yes," she said.

"When?" I asked.

"This morning," she said. She looked up, angrily, defensively. "I thought it wouldn't hurt to have something that was just a little bit pretty."

"You are more than just a little bit pretty," I told her.

"Thank you," she said.

"And you are wearing a bit of make-up and eye shadow," I said.

"Yes," she said.

"And perfume," I said.

"Yes," she said. "I truly hope," she said, "that none of those in my department see me as I am now."

"They would deride your attractiveness," I said, "and attempt, in envy, to avenge themselves on you in the department?"

"Yes," she said. "I think so."

"This change in you is sudden," I said. "It has to do with your experiences with the heavy man, who, so to speak, interviewed you, doesn't it, he whom you saw in the apartment?"

She nodded. "Yes," she said. "It is strange. I never felt so feminine as when he ordered me, so complacently, to kneel and serve him."

"It released your femininity?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. "It is so strange. I cannot explain it."

"You had been put under male domination," I said. "For the first time in your life you probably found yourself in a fully natural biological relationship."

"I repudiate your analysis," she said.

"Too, you were sexually aroused," I said.

"How. could you know that?" she asked. "I said nothing of that."

"You did not have to," I said. "It was evident in your expressions, your tone of voice, the way you recounted the experience."

"You are hateful," she said, irritably.

"May I help you with your cape?" I asked.

"I can manage it myself," she said.

"Doubtless," I said.

She glanced back at the girl at the hat-check counter. The girl then looked away.

"Yes," she said, clearly, a little more loudly than was necessary, "you may help me with my wrap"

She then stood there quietly, and I, standing behind her, lifted the cape about her shoulders. For an instant, the barest instant, after the cape had settled about her, I rested my hands on her upper arms. In that brief second she knew herself held. Then I had released her. Her body was tense, rigid, defensive. "Do not think to put me in your power," she whispered, angrily. "I will never be in the power of any man." Then she said, clearly, pleasantly, a bit loudly, for the benefit of the girl at the counter, "Thank you."

Then, suddenly, she half moaned. Then she said, delightedly, "Hello, how are you? How nice to see you here!" Introductions were exchanged. I looked at the two horselike women, in one another's company, a large one and a small one, who had entered. They regarded me, angrily. They beamed on Beverly. "How pretty you are tonight, Beverly," said the larger woman. "It is all right to wear a dress sometimes," said Beverly. "It is a freedom." "Of course it is," said the larger woman, "don't you worry about it. You look lovely, just lovely." The smaller of the two women said almost nothing. Then they had entered the main dining room, and were being greeted by the head waiter.

"I should never have come here," said Beverly.

"You know them from school?" I asked.

"Yes," said Beverly, "they are in two of my seminars."

"You look ill, miserable," I said. "Do you care, truly, what they think?"