She heard, and felt, stitching give way. Black cloth peeled away from her right leg.
How Much For Just the Planet M. Ford, John
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She went toward the door. Stitches popped like bursts of gunfire. Instinctively she grabbed at the scraps of black as they fell away. It seemed to make things worse. But she did not need the Cat costume any longer. She could simply change into her dress...
Which was locked in a closet, behind the Cat.
Rish sighed. She felt a cold wind from the disposal cubicle. The window to the fire escape was open. That was a possible exit. In fact, it went directly up to her room. Very good. She crawled out.
It was cold, and she was wearing less by the second. Shivering, she reached for the ascending ladder.
No ladder.
How Much For Just the Planet M. Ford, John
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Her skirt bunching and dragging, she fumbled for and grasped the ladder. She began to climb, (ancestral instinct to get to the top of the tree, she thought) heard the bathroom door slam open, a growl, a skid, a clattering crash.
The window slammed shut. Sanchez reached for the next rung, grabbed it, and pulled like mad. Then she noticed the tug of her skirt, caught in the windowframe.
The zipper gave way, and the skirt slipped down, silk on nylon just like ice on ice, and fluttered away into the darkness below.
In her blouse and her stockings, Ambassador Sanchez dangled.
How Much For Just the Planet pg 223 M. Ford, John
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Sanchez paused with her hand on the doorknob. She tugged her blouse down over her hips. It wouldn't go very far.
How Much For Just the Planet M. Ford, John