"Of course."
"Tell the truth. Do you love me?"
"Now, now, Mr. Cornith! There's nothing in the specifications about telling the truth about anything at any time whatever."
"Oh, my Gawd!" The full realization of the awful truth shook Cornith, froze the mellow glow the Martian Vinth had instilled. "I didn't include any good qualities at all in the specifications!"
"And I'm so sorry," Lucy said tenderly. "Because I could very easily have trained myself to be good, to be all of the things you wanted. But I had to follow the specifications. It was the only way I could qualify. Maybe I can change—in five or ten years."
Cornith shook his head sadly. "In five or ten years it won't matter one way or another."
"Then you're going to marry me and get used to me?"
"No."
"But Herb, darling! I've worked so hard making myself all of the silly things your specifications demanded. Nobody else will want a woman like that. Besides, I've been in love with you ever since you worked out the formula for canning cosmic rays."
"You remember that?"