"Yes. But since you are present she will not speak of it." "But if I weren't here--or if I hid myself?" "She might respond to questioning." The hungry subanimal expression came back, and the tip of the tongue appeared between the lips. "If I make her speak ... if I make you believe--will we go back to Hempnell very quickly? Will you help me?" "Yes." Of course he would. He wouldn't do anything else. But what good to say all that to a blank physiological machine beyond the reach of comfort? Besides, the maid should soon be here, and an unwholesome curiosity was eating at him. "I'll leave the closet door just a little ajar," he said. "She probably won't notice. See?" There were footsteps in the hall. The robot nod was his only answer. "You wanted me, mum?" Contrary to his expectations, the voice was young, but very low. It sounded as if she had swallowed as she spoke. "Yes. I want you to clean and press some things of mine. They're hanging on the edge of the bathtub. Go and get them." The maid came into his line of vision, then. She would be very heavy in a few years, he thought, but she was handsome now, though puffed with sleep. She had hastily pulled on a dull-black dress, but her feet were in slippers and her hair was snarly. "Be careful with the dress. It's wool," came Tansy's voice, sounding just as toneless as when it had been directed at him. "And I want them promptly at nine o'clock." Norman half expected to hear an objection to this unreasonable request, but there was none. The girl walked rapidly out of the bathroom, the damp clothes hurriedly slung over one arm, as if her one object were to get away before she was spoken to again. "Wait a moment, girl. I want to ask you a question." The voice was somewhat louder this time. That was the only change whatsoever, but it had a startling effect of command. The girl hesitated, then swung around unwillingly, and Norman got a good look at her face. He could not see Tansy--the closet door just cut her off--but he could see the fear come to the surface of the girl's face as she turned, see the sleep-creased cheek pale. "Yes, mum?" she managed. There was a considerable pause. He could tell from the way the girl shrank, hugging the damp clothes tight to her body, that Tansy had lifted her eyes and was looking at her. Finally: "You know The Easy Way to Do Things? The Ways to Get and Guard?" Norman could have sworn that the girl gave a guilty start at that second phrase. But she only shook her head quickly, and mumbled, "No, mum. I ... I don't know what you're talking about." "You mean you have never learned How to Make Wishes Work? You don't conjure, or spell, or hex? You don't know the Art?" This time the "No" was almost inaudible. The girl was trying to look away, but failing. "I think you are lying."