Page:Weird Tales volume 36 number 02.djvu/96

 in tons of jewelry were sitting about, feeding on canapes and hors d'ouevreshors d'oeuvres [sic]. while all sorts and conditions of men waited uneasily upon their respective daughters, wives, and lady friends. Park Avenue had turned out in force for the initial showing of exclusive gowns by The Svelte Shop. Mannequins were gliding along the runways, and over all presided the figure of S. Horton Walker, resplendent in specially-tailored garments, and looking more than ever like a shaved ape.

"And Model Twelve?" a slightly decayed socialite inquired from above her tiers of chins. "The exclusive Model Twelve, Mr. Walker?"

"Soon," said Walker, rubbing his hands. "Very soon, Mrs. Smythe-Kennicott-Smythe."

EERING through drapes of wine-colored fabric, Vanderhof sucked in his lower lip. Model Twelve was already famous.

It was super-exclusive. Only one gown on this model had been created. And, when it showed, the bidding would be high—almost like an auction, though, of course, most genteel. Mrs. Smythe-Kennicott-Smythe would probably get it. She was the wealthiest woman in New York, and cream on the elite's upper crust, to put it mildly.

"Nuts to you, Mr. Walker," Vanderhof said silently, and fled. He made his way to the dressing-rooms, pausing at sight of Susan Vail; the shop's loveliest model. The girl nodded, smiled, and went on her way.

Vanderhof visualized her. Suddenly he was gone. A perfect duplicate of Susan Vail stood in the passage, looking rather odd in Tim Vandcrhof's garments.

"Now for Model Twelve. It was carefully stored away, but Vanderhof knew where to look. Tenderly, almost reverently, he drew it from its hiding-place, and held up the gown. It was a gorgeous creation—one that would transform any woman.

"Why, Susan," a soft voice said, "what are you doing in those clothes?"

Vanderhof turned hurriedly, to confront a small brown-haired model with wide eyes. "I—"

"And what's the matter with your voice? Got a cold?"

"No," said Vanderhof shrilly. "It—it's just a gag." Seizing Model Twelve, he fled into the nearest dressing-room.

A few minutes later he came out, wearing the gown. Since he looked exactly like Susan Vail, it wasn't at all unbecoming. But his plans weren't finished yet. He wanted to perform an experiment.

He entered a room replete with tall mirrors, reflecting him from various angles. And he concentrated. If he could become two men at once, surely he could transform himself into two or more Susan Vails.

The results were beyond all expectations. From every angle Susan Vails materialized. They appeared like rabbits out of a hat. And all of them wore Model Twelve.

Meanwhile, Walker was preening himself as he made the announcement for which everyone was waiting.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, the event of the afternoon. At great expense, we have secured an ultra-exclusive model—a veritable symphony. There is only one like it in the world."

"How do we know that?" asked a skeptical man with sideburns.

Walker turned a hurt stare upon him. "The Svelte Shop stands ready to guarantee my statement. Our integrity has never been questioned. And now—Model Twelve!"

He flung out an arm toward the runway. The curtains shook convulsively. Through them appeared Susan Vail. A soft gasp went up from the women at sight of Model Twelve.