"Huh?" Dermitt said, taken aback. "But I'll bet her mouth is something to wire home about, eh? Petulant and full? Soft and warm?" Fleetwood shook his head. "Narrow as a string," he said reminiscently. "Hard and cool. Kitty is no ordinary girl, you understand." "Are you sure she's any kind of girl at all?" Dermitt asked hesitantly. "What about her nose? She has a nose, hasn't she?" "Of course," Fleetwood said. "Two openings at the end for air, of course. It's just a nose, I suppose, but she's got one all right." "Uh-huh," Dermitt nodded with subdued spirits. "And hair?" "She got that too," Fleetwood affirmed. "Lusterless, it is, and sort of brownish. I've never seen anyone like her. She's absolutely tremendous." "Fat, too, huh?" Dermitt murmured, "on top of everything else." He shook his head regretfully. "Oh, no," Fleetwood put in. "You misunderstand. Her figure, I should say, could be described as definitely so-so." "Holy smoke!" Dermitt cried. "So that's the kind of dame you pick out--you, Fleetwood Cassidy, who, thanks to me, has been in constant and close contact with some of the most fascinating females in fiction!" "Oh, those tomatoes." Fleetwood sighed a jaded sigh. "I'm tired of all those sexy dames. They get so ordinary after a while. When you've seen one of them you've seen them all." "Ordinary!" Dermitt said, outraged. "All of my women are unique artistic creations! And you're darned lucky to have been in the same stories with them. At least they...." He controlled himself with an effort and forced a smile. "But getting back to this--this Kitty of yours, what I had in mind was that maybe I could work her into the story too. God only knows how I'd do it, but what if I did? Then would you be willing to finish it out?" * * * * * Fleetwood sat up sharply. "No!" He fairly yelled it. "Emphatically no! You leave Kitty out of this. If you so much as put her name on paper I'll...." Dermitt smiled with a certain formidable satisfaction. "You'll what?" he asked quietly. "I've been thinking how logical it is, that if I have the power to transform a fictional person into a live being, then I must also be able to reverse the process and make a live character into a fictional one." "You wouldn't dare!" "I might. And suppose I did? Suppose I transcribed Kitty to paper? I might even change her a little while I'm doing it. Then you'd just about have to go back into the story, wouldn't you, if you ever wanted to see her again?" "But...." "But what, Mr. Cassidy?" "You wouldn't, Dermitt," Fleetwood said limply. "You wouldn't." Dermitt lifted his gaze noncommitally to the ceiling. "She might make an interesting character at that," he mused, "if I used her to the proper advantage." He yawned. "For laughs, that is, and contrast." "Now, look, Dermitt," Fleetwood said anxiously. "I...." "Yes, Mr. Cassidy?" "You say there isn't much of this story left to do?" "Just a bit, really."