"What have you got there?" Westfall asked.

Just then came the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs. A muffled voice from outside cried, "Will somebody please get the door?" Westfall went and opened it. Two large workmen came in, lugging between them the body of a beautiful young woman, unconscious, and pale as death.

"Where do you want her?" asked the workman carrying the end with the head and shoulders.

"Just put her down on the couch over there. Gently!"

Hermes paid both workmen and saw them to the door. He said to Westfall, "I have given her into your power. Now you have her body. But I advise you not to fool around with it "without the lady's permission."

"Where is she?" Westfall asked. "Her consciousness, I O " mean:

"You mean her soul," Hermes said. "It is right here in this box." He put the box down on one of Westfall's tables. "Open it when you please, and her soul will fly out and reanimate her body. But watch your step.

The lady is more than a little angry, not taking kindly to being conjured when she was trying to do something else."

"Her soul is really in the box?" Westfall asked. He lifted the small brown silver-inlaid container and shook it. From deep within he heard a shriek and a muffled curse.

"You're on your own now," Hermes said.

"But what am I supposed to do?"

"That's for you to find out."

Westfall picked up the box and shook it gentry. He said, "Miss Ylith? Are you in there?"

"You bet I'm here, you unspeakable piglike thing," Ylith said. "Open this lid so I can get out and get at you."

Westfall turned pale and squeezed the lid down tightly with both hands. "Oh, dear." He looked at Hermes.

Hermes shrugged.

"She's angry."

"You're telling me?" Hermes said.