He would have to be careful of the food though. She might try to trick him with something that looked good but tasted terrible, and his facsimile would eat it just the same. That night before sending his proxy to Myrna's dinner party, he had his facsimile stick himself with a pin. The sharp pain made him wince. He wondered about the mechanics of the machine. He supposed that his pain was caused by a tiny electrical shock that stimulated a pain nerve. He realized that the more he could find out about his equipment the better his chances were of winning. That evening Myrna was very watchful and very cool. He wondered if she suspected that she had been loved by a robot the evening before. He had hardly seated himself at the table when she called him a robot. The families seemed uproariously amused. He wondered how she had known. He congratulated her politely and she was allowed to go unidentified since it was her round. When his facsimile was brought back to the room, Thad climbed wearily out of his harness and made himself a cold, uninteresting supper. He felt lonely. Was Myrna really sore at him? Damn this whole business! He wished he didn't have to go through all of this. * * * * * The next evening he had a plan worked out. He went himself and greeted her at the door, slammed it shut, and bent towards her to listen. It would take a moment for the reverberation to reach her room. If she were a robot, the sound would come through the primary microphone in the sender and he might be able to hear the faint echo from her lips. He did, and he immediately announced her as a facsimile. Her congratulations were hardly more than civil. He left with no great feeling of triumph. The next three evenings, she was very distant. He understood why she didn't meet him at the door anymore, but he couldn't tell why the rest of her behavior was so cold. She was very lucky, too. She identified him correctly as a robot each time before he even had time to greet the rest of the family. The day went very slowly. Thad left the office early in his uneasiness. Tonight was the seventh and last situation. He hoped it also wouldn't be their last evening together. At this point, he hardly knew what to do. If she won the contest, it would be a whole long year before they could marry. He knew that quite often that spelled the finish to a romance. On the other hand, if he won, it might estrange them immediately. She had such pride. What to do? He decided to forget the robots and go as his real self again. Points were in her favor anyway. He realized that if she were present by facsimile, he couldn't possibly win. He might as well be the first one to guess and be done with it. It wasn't the contest that mattered anyhow; it was Myrna and what she was feeling. When he rang the doorbell that evening, the corsage box under his arm contained orchids. Unexpectedly, it was Myrna that opened the door. "Hello, _real_ Myrna."