"Master Kelsey," the Mirror said, softly critical. "You're not smiling."
"But I am."
"Yes, but not enough."
Kelsey touched his lips and stretched his face muscles. The Mirror said, "People are uneasy when you don't smile."
Alice knew how much Kelsey respected his Mirror. It had cost him so much, and it was the most popular item advertised on Tevee. It was finely attuned to Kelsey's personality. It knew when he was not looking exactly right to meet the strict demands of the crowd.
"Smile and the group will love you," the Mirror said. "Frown, and you may frown alone."
Kelsey was suddenly smiling intensely, as though his very life had been threatened.
"That's better," the Mirror said.
Alice had tried so hard and so often to smile, pulling at the plastoid stuff of her face. She guessed that Humans were supposed to smile all the time, and robots never. Why should a robot smile. A robot had nothing to sell. It had routine functions, but it had nothing to sell.
Kelsey zipped himself out of his clothes and jumped into the shower. He was six feet tall. He had blue eyes and wavy hair with streaks of brown in the Viking yellow. His skin was golden and his muscles moved with fluid healthy power. His daily stint in the male beauty clinic at the factory kept him in top condition. And the Mirror was always alert to detect any flaw in his outward appearance.