He became aware that she was regarding him with much the same suggestion of helpless dismay as the major-domo. "Why, you've eaten it all!" she exclaimed. "All?" snorted Robert. "There was hardly any food!" Marcia-Joan walked slowly around the table, staring at the empty dishes. "A few bits of raw vegetables and the tiniest portion of protein-concentrate I ever saw!" Robert continued. "Do you call that a dinner to serve a guest?" "And I especially ordered two portions--" "Two?" Robert repeated in astonishment. "You must visit me sometime. I'll show you--" "What's the matter with my food?" interrupted the girl. "I follow the best diet advice my robots could find in the city library." "They should have looked for human diets, not song-birds'." He lifted a cover in hopes of finding some overlooked morsel, but the platter was bare. "No wonder you act so strangely," he said. "You must be suffering from malnutrition. I don't wonder with a skimpy diet like this." "It's very healthful," insisted Marcia-Joan. "The old film said it was good for the figure, too." "Not interested," grunted Robert. "I'm satisfied as I am." "Oh, yes? You look gawky to me." "_You_ don't," retorted Robert, examining her disdainfully. "You are short and stubby and too plump." "_Plump?_" "Worse, you're actually fat in lots of places I'm not." "At least not between the ears!" Robert blinked. "Wh-wh-WHAT?" "And besides," she stormed on, "those robots you brought are painted the most repulsive colors!" * * * * * Robert closed his mouth and silently sought the connection. _Robots?_ he thought. _Not fat, but repulsive colors, she said. What has that to do with food? The woman seems incapable of logic._ "And furthermore," Marcia-Joan was saying, "I'm not sure I care for the looks of you! Lulu, put him out!" "Who's Lulu?" demanded Robert. Then, as the major-domo moved forward, he understood. "What a silly name for a robot!" he exclaimed. "I suppose you'd call it Robert. Will you go now, or shall I call more robots?" "I am not a fool," said Robert haughtily. "I shall go. Thank you for the disgusting dinner." "Do not use the front door," said the robot. "Only Marcia-Joan uses that. All robots use other doors." Robert growled, but walked down the hall to the back door. As this swung open to permit his passage, he halted. "It's dark out there now," he complained over his shoulder. "Don't you have any lights on your grounds? Do you want me to trip over something?" "Of course I have ground lights!" shrilled Marcia-Joan. "I'll show you--not that I care if you trip or not." A moment later, lights concealed among the trees glowed into life. Robert walked outside and turned toward the cottage. _I should have asked her what the colors of my robots had to do with it_, he thought, and turned back to re-enter. He walked right into the closed door, which failed to open before him, though it had operated smoothly a moment ago.