DOMIN. Yes, the officials, but not the _managers_. Allow me, Miss Glory--this is Consul Busman, General Business Manager; this is Doctor Fabry, General Technical Manager; Doctor Hallemeier, head of the Institute for the Psychological Training of Robots; Doctor Gall, head of the Psychological and Experimental Department; and Alquist, head of the Building Department, R. U. R. (_As they are introduced they rise and come C. to kiss her hand, except GALL and ALQUIST, whom DOMIN pushes away. General babble._) ALQUIST. Just a builder. Please sit down. HELENA. Excuse me, gentlemen. Have I done something dreadful? ALQUIST. Not at all, Miss Glory. BUSMAN. (_Handing flowers_) Allow me, Miss Glory. HELENA. Thank you. FABRY. (_Handing candy_) Please, Miss Glory. DOMIN. Will you have a cigarette, Miss Glory? HELENA. No, thank you. DOMIN. Do you mind if I do? HELENA. Certainly not. BUSMAN. Well, now, Miss Glory, it is certainly nice to have you with us. HELENA. (_Seriously_) But you know I’ve come to disturb your Robots for you. (_BUSMAN pulls chair closer._) DOMIN. (_Mocking her serious tone_) My dear Miss Glory-- (_Chuckle_) --we’ve had close upon a hundred saviors and prophets here. Every ship brings us some. Missionaries, Anarchists, Salvation Army, all sorts! It’s astonishing what a number of churches and idiots there are in the world. HELENA. And yet you let them speak to the Robots. DOMIN. So far we’ve let them all. Why not? The Robot remembers everything but that’s all. They don’t even laugh at what the people say. Really it’s quite incredible. HELENA. I’m a stupid girl. Send me back by the first ship. DR. GALL. Not for anything in the world, Miss Glory. Why should we send you back? DOMIN. If it would amuse you, Miss Glory, I’ll take you down to the Robot warehouse. It holds about three hundred thousand of them. BUSMAN. Three hundred and forty-seven thousand. DOMIN. Good, and you can say whatever you like to them. You can read the Bible, recite the multiplication table, whatever you please. You can even preach to them about human rights. HELENA. Oh, I think that if you were to show them a little love. FABRY. Impossible, Miss Glory! _Nothing is harder to like than a Robot._ HELENA. What do you make them for, then? BUSMAN. Ha, ha, ha! That’s good. What are Robots made for? FABRY. For _work_, Miss Glory. One Robot can replace two and a half _workmen_. The human machine, Miss Glory, was terribly _imperfect_. It had to be removed sooner or later. BUSMAN. It was too expensive. FABRY. It was not _effective_. It no longer answers the requirements of _modern engineering_. Nature has no idea of keeping pace with _modern labor_. For example, from a technical point of view, the whole of _childhood_ is a sheer absurdity. So much time lost. And then again-- HELENA. (_Turns to DOMIN_) Oh, no, no! FABRY. Pardon me. What is the real _aim_ of your League--the--the Humanity League?