O'Reilley sighed and straightened. He blinked at the inspector and spoke in a monotone. "My missus died five years back. We were class-B--allowed one child of our own--if we could have one. We couldn't. But since we were class-B, we couldn't own a neutroid either. Sorta got around it by running a pet shop. Mary--she always cried when we sold a neut. I sorta felt bad about it myself. But we never did swipe one. Last year this Bermuda shipment come in. I sold most of 'em pretty quick, but Peony here--she was kinda puny. Seemed like nobody wanted her. Kept her around so long, I got attached to her. 'Fraid somebody'd buy her. So I faked the receipt and moved her up here." "That all?" The old man nodded. "Ever done this before?" He shook his head. Norris let a long silence pass while he struggled with himself. At last he said, "Your license could be revoked, you know." "I know." Norris ground his fist thoughtfully in his palm and stared at the sleeping doll-thing. "I'll take your books home with me tonight," he said. "I want to make a complete check for similar changes. Any objections?" "None. It's the only trick I've pulled, so help me." "If that's true, I won't report you. We'll just attach a correction to that page, and you'll put the newt back in stock." He hesitated. "Providing it's not a deviant. I'll have to take it in for examination." A choking sound came from the armchair. Norris stared curiously at the old man. Moisture was creeping in the wrinkles around his eyes. "Something the matter?" O'Reilley nodded. "She's a deviant." "How do you know?" The dealer pulled himself erect and hobbled to the sleeping neutroid. He knelt beside it and stroked a small bare shoulder gently. "Peony," he breathed. "Peony, girl--wake up." Its fluffy tail twitched for a moment. Then it sat up, rubbing its eyes and yawning. It _looked_ normal, like a two-year-old girl with soft brown eyes. It pouted at O'Reilley for awakening it. It saw Norris and ignored him, apparently too sleepy to be frightened. "How's my Peony-girl?" the dealer purred. It licked its lips. "Wanna g'ass o' water, Daddy," it said drowsily. Norris caught his breath. No K-99 should be able to make a speech that long, even when it reached the developmental limit. He glanced at O'Reilley. The old man nodded slowly, then went to the kitchen for a glass of water. She drank greedily and eyed her foster-parent. "Daddy crying." O'Reilley glowered at her and blew his nose solemnly. "Don't be silly, child. Now get your coat on and go with Mister Norris. He's taking you for a ride in his truck. Won't that be fine?" "I don't want to. I wanna stay here." "_Peeony!_ On with you!" She brought her coat and stared at Norris with childish contempt. "Can Daddy go, too?" "Be on your way!" growled O'Reilley. "I got things to do." "We're coming back?" "Of course you're coming back! _Git_ now--or shall I get my spanking switch?" Peony strolled out the door ahead of Norris.