Yes, she does

It looks like I have ****, thought Peggy.

I have to strip down.

She slowly walked behind the curtain, ignored the thing on the wall that looked like a wall safe and then proceeded to slowly -- very slowly -- take off her clothes.

First she removed her blouse and placed it gently on the chair in front of her.

Then she removed her skirt, folded it neatly before placing it on the chair.

Then she took off her stockings, trying not to envision herself as a burly queen or one of the girls at the Windmill Theatre while she was doing so.

Then she unhooked and took off her bra, her fingers trembling as she did so.

Finally there were only her panties left. Her last line of defense, so to speak.

Like any other unpleasant task, she quickly removed them and placed them on the chair. Now she had nothing on but her heels -- and she was not about to go barefoot in this place.

But before she could reach for the robe and cover her nakedness, someone opened the door behind her.

Surely the art teacher was not that much of a lech, was he? she thought.

She turned around in time to see a woman with a familiar face staring at her.

A woman who smiled at her. But, alas, it was not a pleasant smile.

"Peggy Carter," said the woman Peggy had once known as Dottie Underwood. "I always suspected your boss was a cheapskate but I never thought you'd be reduced to this."