“Only roughly, the man said.” Cherry was right behind him. “Notice anything else?”
Morey leaned closer, inspecting the features of the facsimile robot at a close range. “Well, no,” he said. “It’s got a kind of a squint that I don’t like, but—Oh, you mean that!” he bent over to examine a smaller robot, half hidden between the other pair. It was less than two feet high, big-headed, pudgy-limbed, thick-bellied. In fact, Morey thought wonderingly, it looked almost like—
“My God!” Morey spun around, staring wide-eyed at his wife. “You mean—”
“I mean,” said Cherry, blushing slightly.
Morey reached out to grab her in his arms.
“Darling!” he cried. “Why didn’t you tell me?”