2 RY had been taught just simple things at first. "Toory, come here." He had learned to balance upright the first day. "Come, Toory. Stand here by me." With his great jointed legs swinging, and sometimes clanking because of his untrained awkwardness, Toory would obey. "Very good, Toory. Now--sit down. Flat--all the way down. That's it, Toory." How patient the man had remained! "Now--raise your right hand. No, not that one. The _right_ hand, Toory. That's splendid!" And when he failed to realize he had made a mistake, the question would come again. "You're using your left hand. Do you understand, Toory?" "Yes," Toory would say. He could remember every glorious moment of those two years. Outdoors in rainy weather, with the rain dimming his eye-lenses so that he had to learn to polish them with a bit of fabric. And more often in cold weather when all his motions seemed to require more effort. His reactions then would be slower if he did not automatically quicken them. Quite as varied were the many tasks indoors in the training rooms. They were mostly domestic tasks, because Toory had been designed essentially, not for factory or business work, but for the home. At last he realized that his training was over, and one day soon after that, his prospective purchaser came. His name was Robert Doret. He was a wealthy man and an important one. The faint, red-glowing beams from Toory's eyes, deep-set under his ridged brows, gazed down in apprehension at the man who perhaps might buy him. "So you're trained to be called 'Toory'?" Robert Doret asked. "Is that correct?" "Yes," Toory replied, striving to remain calm. "You're right," Doret said to James Erg, who stood beside him. "Quite a pleasant, well-modulated voice. Certainly far more human-sounding than the other models." "Try him on emotion," Erg suggested. Doret thought a moment. "I'm not sure I'm entirely pleased with you, Toory," he said. "I do not understand why," Toory murmured, contritely. "But I am sorry." "You will find several emotion-gradations like that," Erg said. "I see. Yes, it's a very impressive model, Erg--far in advance of your others." Doret smiled thoughtfully. He was a small man, bulging about the middle, with a rosy, pleasant face. "I guess he's worth the price, Erg." The skin around the blue eyes crinkled with tiny traceries of white lines and Toory suddenly felt glad that Robert Doret might purchase him. It was like the glow he experienced when he understood a task, and accomplished it perfectly. The next day Toory learned that the sale had been made. He was to serve in Doret's country home, up in the hills north of the city. Toory needed no specialized training for that. But he learned that there was to be intensive, new-task instruction for a month to prepare him for his duties as a domestic helper for Babs Doret, the purchaser's daughter, for whom he had been bought.