I suggest to Wilson that perhaps his novel could do with a little romance, a soupçon of love interest; the original book is, after all, described as 'mummy-porn'. He grumbles about the purity of his plot being spoiled, but grudgingly consents to add a girl anteater to the story.
'She is poor and ragged, a delicate creature,' he explains, 'befriended by me, um, I mean by the handsome hero, and her gamine beauty gradually emerges as she helps with the painting.'
'Might they get engaged, marry and have a litter of adorable baby anteaters?' I asked.
'Poof! Some chance!' W replies, dismissively. 'There might be a bit of cuddling, but she won't be a major character, and there certainly won't be any babies!'
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