"Nothing to say?" asked Robie.
"Uh—thank you."
After a suitable pause, Robie continued. "And how about a nice refreshing drink of Poppy Pop to go with your polly-lop?" The boy lifted his eyes, but didn't stop licking the candy. Robie waggled his claws slightly. "Just give me a quarter and within five seconds—"
A little girl wriggled out of the forest of legs. "Give me a polly-lop, too, Robie," she demanded.
"Rita, come back here!" a woman in the third rank of the crowd called angrily.
Robie scanned the newcomer gravely. His reference silhouettes were not good enough to let him distinguish the sex of children, so he merely repeated, "Hello, youngster."
"Rita!"
"Give me a polly-lop!"
Disregarding both remarks, for a good salesman is single-minded and does not waste bait, Robie said winningly, "I'll bet you read Junior Space Killers. Now I have here—"
"Uh-uh, I'm a girl. He got a polly-lop."