They watched Claude. It was just a little too obvious. A little sickening.
"The bitch," Cleo whispered, "she's always after someone's trade. I wouldn't trust her with my dog."
"Can a Follies beauty come in?" yelled a feminine voice from behind the front door. There followed several light knocks.
"Oh, Dusty," screamed Gene. He went quickly to the door and unsnapped the safety latch he had fastened when Claude had begun his dance. "It's about time you got here," he said opening the door. "Come on in, girl."
Dusty came in. "My God, Gene! What have you got here; the crown jewels?" Dusty laughed, looking back at the safety latch. "Afraid the law or some piece of rough trade might break in? Or have you got someone in here you don't want to let out?" Dusty had on the same dress she wore in the club.
"You know how it is. A girl can't be too careful," Gene replied, snapping the latch again. "Hey, kids, look who's here."
"Hi, everybody." Dusty laughed and waved her handkerchief at the crowd. They all yelled back at her. Then she turned back to Gene. "Looks like a pansy patch in here … so many faggots." She grinned, "I hope you don't mind me coming like I am. I didn't take time to change."
"Honey, right now I'm so drunk and excited, I wouldn't care if you came stark naked."
"Well … give me time … I took a cab from the club … Anyone else in drag?" Dusty asked.
"No … I don't think so … There might be some naked bodies laying around," Gene laughed throwing his arms about.
"Now that you've seen me, peasants," Dusty began in a deep bass voice, "you can go back to the things you had your hands on before I came in … Who's going to get this bull-dike a drink, or am I going to have to get it myself?" she yelled.
Gaylord looked at Dusty in amazement. The masculine voice was too much for him. "Isn't Dusty a girl?" he asked.
"No … did you think so … He's a female impersonator … Did you think he was a girl?"
"I sure did."
