"Don't—know," she replied in the same manner. "Think—it's—the—elephants."
"What elephants?" he asked a word at a time. "I haven't seen any."
"You will. They come around and inspect what you're doing. Are you new here?"
"New at these machines. They had me teaching them to write English. This is my first day in here."
"This is my eightieth work-period. We lost track of the days."
"So did I. Where are we? Are there any other humans with you?"
"One in the cage across the corridor from me. Walter Stevens the Wall Street man."
"Have they got him on this job, too?"
"Yes."
Sherman could not avoid a snicker. Back in the days before the comet he had had Stevens as a passenger once, and a more difficult customer to satisfy, a more cocksure-of-his-own-importance man he had never seen. The thought of him burning his fingertips up in one of these machines gave him some amusement. But his next question was practical.