The Dollmaker smiled at Victor. “Dollmaker, Dollmaker, make me a wife, men say; and men come here and seek my aid. Now you are here – well, here’s a specimen of my work – here is a real doll. Pretty, isn’t she?” “She could hardly pass for human, though,” replied Victor. “Then perhaps you would consider the other ladies in the room, Victor.” Victor laughed. “They’re not dolls, they’re human!” “Good, good;” mused the Dollmaker, “they are convincing, aren’t they? You underestimate my poor talents, Victor; those three girls are dolls too, not human. And yet the men who have visited us have been quite content with such dolls; they leave here with wives who, though not human, yet show all the symptoms of human emotion; they can act just like the humans they are meant to be - and,” he chuckled, “no-one who has bought one has ever brought one back to complain of his purchase or say I have not delivered what they wanted and what I promised.” “You amaze me,” gasped Victor, “they look perfect, and –“ “And so they should. They can do anything you ask, and will only answer when they are asked to. Why? Because men are what they are - never satisfied, always wanting something else - or demanding perfection of their companions, when no human can ever - or should ever - be perfect.” The Dollmaker paused, admiring his own handiwork. “There are times when I feel greater than any Supreme Being; for I can create such beings as these, each of whom is more beautiful than myself.” “You should beware of boasting, Dollmaker; if there indeed be the gods that so many people revere; those gods might not think kindly of a man vaunting himself as greater than one of them.” The Dollmaker shrugged his shoulders. “More to the point, Victor, to more mundane matters – how much do you think one of my creations is worth to you?” “More than I have, I expect.” “Not at all. Reach into your pocket and take out a coin. There. That will do. Now choose one of the girls – and take good care of her. If you do not treat her properly I will know; and you will not enjoy my anger.” “And she will do as she is asked – has she no will of her own?” “That is up to you. You can choose to let her have her own character, her own mind, her own thoughts. Your life will become much more interesting …” (Adapted from an unfinished story. I woke up one morning with the title running through my head, and wrote a bit, and forgot about it.)