"Sorry," Cornith said. "This Lucy Hollowell fits everything except she is too skinny. I don't want a bag of bones for a wife."
The blonde smiled wryly. "She is only a half-ounce under the specifications, to be exact. Perhaps you have not carefully read your requirements. Let me remind you, Mr. Cornith, the Foundation probed your every thought, conscious and subconscious, your every physical reaction, and they specified merely that the girl must be unusually intelligent, naming the subjects which will fit into your pattern; that she must be beautiful according to your standards; that she must be five-feet four-inches tall and weigh a hundred and twenty-three pounds.
"Now, Mr. Cornith, there is one little thing which the Foundation has decided that you implanted in your thoughts by suggestion before taking the test. They decided that you were being facetious. I am alluding to the specified requirements that your wife must be able to wiggle her ears, throw her voice and perform sleight-of-hand tricks, among other curious things. The Foundation says that these things may not be essentially required. But they do admit the requirement that she must be eager to please you at all times. And since it is Lucy Hollowell's nature to be eager to please the man she marries, she is even now practicing ventriloquism and learning how to wiggle her ears. She has a brilliant mind and will have no difficulty learning a number of sleight-of-hand tricks."
"But she's too skinny!"
"Half an ounce, Mr. Cornith. She weighs a hundred and twenty-two pounds, fifteen ounces. She could very easily gain that ounce by making an effort, but you specified that there should be no conscious effort to meet physical measurements and weight requirements. She was to be weighed, dripping wet, as she came from under the shower, just before breakfast. We assume that the wetness weighed half an ounce."
"I don't like skinny females."
"We have another one, less brilliant, but who meets all physical requirements other than weighing a hundred and twenty-three pounds and four ounces."
"Too fat. Can't stand fat women."
"Would you permit Lucy Hollowell to gain half an ounce consciously? She can do it in a few hours. Has a brilliant mind. Can regulate her own glandular flow."
"No. I don't want to marry a woman who is always thinking about her weight, and if she starts now—"