"Uncle Simon. I've got the beginning and middle of a novel in him, but I haven't got the end."
"You are going to put him in a book?"
"I wish to goodness I could, and close the covers on him. No, I'm going to weave him into a story—he's doing most of the weaving, but that's a detail. Look here, Julia——"
"Yes?"
"I've been thinking."
"Yes?"
"I've been thinking we have made a mistake."
"Who?"
"Well, we. I didn't write, I thought I'd wait till I saw you."
"How d'you mean?" said Julia dryly.