want someone to simply stimulate my conversation. What I want is something in between and something more. I—I'm going to take a chance and go out on a limb here, but I think I've found the right per- son. We'll do this like old Socrates. I'll ask you some questions and let you do the answering, okay? Now, let's assume a few hypothetical facts. Put the case that there is a girl who wants to write a serious book; but can't find a publisher. Put the case that a girl who has written a serious book is able to publish it, but only under a masculine name. Now put the case that this girl wants to go on writing serious books, but is afraid that if she reveals herself, she will lose whatever she has gained that publishers and all will think her very clever for having written one good book, but in all liklihood will not repeat the per- formance, as for example Margaret Mitchell — or else worse - be regarded as a crackpot. Put the case that this girl has succeeded in making something of a name for herself by appearing to the rest of the world as a man, at least in print. And now, there is a demand for this male writer to appear in public -guest appearances here and there, lectures, and a couple of very fat offers for movie scripts. And now, tell me, what does this girl-writer need the most?"

that is, she needs . . .” Some-

"That's easy she needs a male-image how, I sensed what she was driving at and I didn't know if I really liked it. I mean it was one thing to help a person - certainly the tradition of the ghost-writer is as long and honorable as that of writers themselves but this was down-right fraud. In fact, as I rolled the whole idea around in my head, I began to see real legal reasons why it would not work out. I mean, suppose that an offer was made for . to appear

on a television program and I appeared instead. If it should ever become known, it would be a justifiable case of fraud. And that was just the least of the objections. Fame, even when earned honestly might well be a fine thing (as if I knew!), but to receive applause for another's work, that was more than I personally could take. Or so I thought.

She was still waiting for me to finish. I shook my head. “No — I see where it leads, but I don't think much of it. I'm sorry...

She smiled then, vaguely, enigmatically. "Exactly. And I'm glad to see you can see the difficulty. Nevertheless, that doesn't solve the prob- lem of our lady-writer, does it? Now, then, there is always the outside chance that she might be accepted if she were to show her true colors. But consider this: in an age that idolizes, nay, commercializes the very essence of the decorative, feminine image, what happens when our girl is disclosed, looking as she does a cross between a draft ox and Primo Carnera!"