"She's pretty, isn't she?"
Stephanie's small, snub-nosed face was pink with fury. The mouth opened wide and hollered.
"I don't care if she's going to grow up and be Miss Universe. By the way, does—does she actually grow up?"
"What's the matter with you, Bryan Channing? Of course she grows up. She's real."
"As real as that food cabinet. How much did she cost?"
"I won't tell you while you're mad like that."
"Don't you see how fantastic this is?" Channing pleaded, "We can't go around with a fake baby."
"Fake? How dare you!"
"Yes, fake. How would you go about entering her in school when she's four years old, for instance?"
"We'll worry about that in four years, but don't you call Stephanie fake. Anyway, Qui Dor is selling so many babies, provisions will have have to be made."