Karen had not spoken. She felt stupid, as if she had been rendered dumb of a sudden. The girl-woman was an apparition, and the vision had bewitched her. Karen gaped as Parker, the captain, stumbled and nearly fell getting to her.

"Who… who is she?" she managed.

Karl Fletcher almost sighed. "A remarkable woman in our world," he said, sitting down slowly as he watched her and the animal being led to a secluded table. "I know of no one with her influence in the studios. Really, none of us knows anything about her… except that she's a remarkable agent… and woman."

"Yes… I can see about the woman part."

Suddenly, his mind had come back to her, his little wet eyes seemingly inspired by what they had just engorged themselves upon.

"You were saying, Mr. Fletcher…?"

"Karl," he corrected, smiling. Then he grew serious. "Yes… well now, I think we should get right to the meat of this publishing situation, Karen. No use of me stringing you along one way or the other, is there?"

"I-I'd prefer you didn't," Karen said. She had experienced a little let-down at his words. So, here it comes, she thought, watching him as he carefully selected his approach.

"Frankly, your book is good. As I said on the phone, there are a few things, but all minor… a couple of character flaws and a little plot weakness in one or two spots, but in general, good, my dear… damned good."

"Then, you feel you can sell it for me?"

"Oh, I don't doubt for a minute that I can sell it… once we've ironed out those weak points," he said, his small eyes scrutinizing her carefully. "But you must remember, my dear… first books are notoriously bad risks for publishers, and bring little remuneration to their authors other than satisfaction." He simpered. "I mean, without a name, who wants to read you?"

Karen tasted her martini. "Everyone has to start somewhere, Mr. Fletcher…"