"You mean you did that, Sol?"
"Not me, exactly. I've brought you a little baby diver, honey, all the way from Antimony IX, just for you. There isn't another one on Earth. In fact, I doubt if there's another one outside Antimony IX. I had a lot of trouble securing this rare and valuable present for you."
"I don't like it. It gives me the creeps."
"Honey," I said carefully, "this is a little baby. It couldn't hurt a mouse. It's about six inches in diameter, and all it is doing is to teleport what you want it to teleport."
"Then why can't I see it?"
"If you could see it, I wouldn't have been allowed to bring it for you, honey, because a whole row of nasty-minded Solar Civil Servants would have seen it too, and they would have taken it from your own sweet Sol."
"They can have it."
"Honey, this is a rare and valuable pet! It will do things for you."
"So you think I need something done for me. Well! I'm glad you came right out and said this before we were married!"
The following series of "but—but—" from me and irrelevance from Florence occupied an hour, but hardly mentioned the diver. Eventually I got her back into my arms.