She put the street suit she had changed into back into her locker and put on a dinner dress kept there for emergencies.  It was a demure little number, barely translucent and with bustle and bust pads so subdued that they merely re-created the effect she would have produced had she been wearing nothing.  The dress had cost her a month's pay and did not look it, its subtle power being concealed like knock-out drops in a drink.  Jill looked at herself with satisfaction and took the bounce tube up to the roof.