“Go on,” Gloria snapped impatiently. “And remember how dearly Metropolis Pictures will thank you for annoying one of its best box-office attractions.”
“Some things, my sweeting, are more important than pictures, though you mightn’t think it where you come from. One of them is a certain federation of forty-eight units. Another is an abstract concept called democracy.”
“And so?”
“And so I want to ask you one question: Why did you come to Berkeley?”
“For publicity on Fangs, of course. It was your sister’s idea.”
“You’ve gone temperamental and turned down better ones. Why leap at this?”
“You don’t haunt publicity stunts yourself, Fergus. Why are you here?”
Fergus was pacing again. “And why was your first act in Berkeley a visit to the office of the German department?”
“Isn’t that natural enough? I used to be a student here.”
“Majoring in dramatics, and you didn’t go near the Little Theater. Why the German department?” He paused and stood straight in front of her, fixing her with his green gaze.
Gloria assumed the attitude of a captured queen defying the barbarian conqueror. “Very well. If you must know—I went to the German department to see the man I love.”
Wolf held his breath, and tried to keep his tail from thrashing.
“Yes,” she went on impassionedly, “you strip the last veil from me, and force me to confess to you what he alone should have heard first. This man proposed to me by mail. I foolishly rejected his proposal. But I thought and thought—and at last I knew. When I came to Berkeley I had to see him—”
“And did you?”
“The little mouse of a secretary told me he wasn’t there. But I shall see him yet. And when I do—”
Fergus bowed stiffly. “My congratulations to you both, my sweeting. And the name of this more than fortunate gentleman?”
“Professor Wolfe Wolf.”
“Who is doubtless the individual referred to in this?” He whipped a piece of paper from his sport coat and thrust it at Gloria. She paled and was silent. But Wolfe Wolf did not wait for her to reply. He did not care. He knew the solution to his problem now, and he was streaking unobserved for her boudoir.
Gloria Garton entered the boudoir a minute later, a shaken and wretched woman. She unstoppered one of the delicate perfume bottles on her dresser and poured herself a stiff tot of whiskey. Then her eyebrows lifted in surprise as she stared at her mirror. Scrawlingly lettered across the glass in her own deep-crimson lipstick was the mysterious word
ABSARKA
Frowning, she said it aloud. “Absarka—”
From behind a screen stepped Professor Wolfe Wolf, incongruously wrapped in one of Gloria’s lushest dressing robes.
“Gloria dearest—” he cried.
“Wolfe!” she exclaimed. “What on earth are you doing here in my room?”
“I love you. I’ve always loved you since you couldn’t tell a strong from a weak verb. And now that I know that you love me—”
“This is terrible. Please get out of here!”
“Gloria—”
“Get out of here, or I’ll sic my dog on you. Wolfie— Here, nice Wolfie!”
“I’m sorry, Gloria. But Wolfie won’t answer you.”
“Oh, you beast! Have you hurt Wolfie? Have you—”
“I wouldn’t touch a hair on his pelt. Because, you see, Gloria darling, I am Wolfie.”
“What on earth do you—” Gloria stared around the room. It was undeniable that there was no trace of the presence of a wolf dog. And here was a man dressed only in one of her robes and no sign of his own clothes. And after that funny little man and the rope…
“You thought I was drab and dull,” Wolf went on. “You thought I’d sunk into an academic rut. You’d sooner have an actor or a G-man. But I, Gloria, am something more exciting than you’ve ever dreamed of. There’s not another soul on earth I’d tell this to, but I, Gloria, am a werewolf.”
Gloria gasped. “That isn’t possible! But it does all fit in. What I heard about you on campus, and your friend with the funny beard and how he vanished, and, of course, it explains how you did tricks that any real dog couldn’t possibly do—”
“Don’t you believe me, darling?”
Gloria rose from the dresser chair and went into his arms. “I believe you, dear. And it’s wonderful! I’ll bet there’s not another woman in all Hollywood that was ever married to a werewolf!”
“Then you will—”
“But of course, dear. We can work it out beautifully. We’ll hire a stooge to be your trainer on the lot. You can work daytimes, and come home at night and I’ll say that word for you. It’ll be perfect.”
“Gloria…” Wolf murmured with tender reverence.
“One thing, dear. Just a little thing. Would you do Gloria a favor?”
“Anything!”
“Show me how you change. Change for me now. Then I’ll change you back right away.”
Wolf said The Word. He was in such ecstatic bliss that he hardly felt the pang this time. He capered about the room with all the litheness of his fine wolfish legs, and ended up before Gloria, wagging his tail and looking for approval.
Gloria patted his head. “Good boy, Wolfie. And now, darling, you can just damned well stay that way.”
Wolf let out a yelp of amazement.
“You heard me, Wolfie. You’re staying that way. You didn’t happen to believe any of that guff I was feeding the detective, did you? Love you? I should waste my time! But this way you can be very useful to me. With your trainer gone, I can take charge of you and pick up an extra thousand a week or so. I won’t mind that. And Professor Wolfe Wolf will have vanished forever, which fits right in with my plans.”
Wolf snarled.
“Now, don’t try to get nasty, Wolfie darling. Um wouldn’t threaten ums darling Gloria, would ums? Remember what I can do for you. I’m the only person that can turn you into a man again. You wouldn’t dare teach anyone else that. You wouldn’t dare let people know what you really are. An ignorant person would kill you. A smart one would have you locked up as a lunatic.”
Wolf still advanced threateningly.
“Oh, no. You can’t hurt me. Because all I’d have to do would be to say the word on the mirror. Then you wouldn’t be a dangerous wolf anymore. You’d just be a man here in my room, and I’d scream. And after what happened on the campus yesterday, how long do you think you’d stay out of the madhouse?”