er hair and eyes were also
brown, though darker. In contrast to Robert's, her smooth skin was
only lightly tanned, and she wore her hair much longer. He thought her
oval face might have been pleasant if not for the analytical
expression she wore.

"I am quite human," he said in annoyance. "Do you have a voice?"

She rose and walked over to him curiously. Robert saw that she was
several inches shorter than he, about the height of one of his robots.
He condescended to bear her scrutiny.

"You look just as you do on the telescreen," she marveled.

Robert began to wonder if the girl were feeble-minded. How else should
he look?

"I usually swim at this hour," he said to change the subject. "Where
is the pool?"

Marcia-Joan stared at him.

"Pool of what?" she asked.

Sensing sarcasm, he scowled. "Pool of water, of course! To swim in.
What did you think I meant--a pool of oil?"

"I am not acquainted with your habits," retorted the girl.

"None of that stupid wit!" he snapped. "Where is the pool?"

"Don't shout!" shouted the girl. Her voice was high and unpleasantly
shrill compared with his. "I don't have a pool. Who wants a swimming
pool, anyway?"

Robert felt his face flushing with rage.

_So she won't tell me!_ he thought. _All right, I'll find it myself.
Everybody has a pool. And if she comes in, I'll hold her head under
for a while!_

Sneering, he turned toward the nearest exit from the house. The gaily
striped robot hastened after him.

* * * * *

The door failed to swing back as it should have at Robert's approach.
Impatiently, he seized the ornamental handle. He felt his shoulder
grasped by a metal hand.

"Do not use the front door!" said the robot.

"Let go!" ordered Robert, incensed that any robot should presume to
hinder him.

"Only Marcia-Joan uses this door," said the robot, ignoring Robert's
displeasure.

"I'll use it if I like!" declared Robert, jerking the handle.

The next moment, he was lifted bodily into the air. By the time he
realized what was happening, he was carried, face down, along the
hall. Too astonished even to yell, he caught a glimpse of
Marcia-Joan's tiny feet beneath the hem of her pink robe as his head
passed the curtained doorway.

The robot clumped on to the door at the rear of the house and out into
the sunshine. There, it released its grip.

When Robert regained the breath knocked out of him by the drop, and
assured himself tha