He said despairingly, “I’m sorry. I just—”
He had a better idea. He kissed her.
Cherry was passive at first, but not for long. When he had finished kissing her, she pushed him away and actually giggled. “Let me get dressed for dinner.”
“Certainly. Anyhow, I was just—”
She laid a finger on his lips.
He let her escape and, feeling much less tense, drifted into the library. The afternoon papers were waiting for him. Virtuously, he sat down and began going through them in order. Midway through the World-Telegram-Sun-Post-and-News, he rang for Henry.
Morey had read clear through to the drama section of the Times-Herald-Tribune-Mirror before the robot appeared. “Good evening,” it said politely.
“What took you so long?” Morey demanded. “Where are all the robots?”
Robots do not stammer, but there was a distinct pause before Henry said, “Belowstairs, sir. Did you want them for something?”
“Well, no. I just haven’t seen them around. Get me a drink.”