"I presume I can put you down for one of these."
"I don't need it," Perry said. "My old one is good enough."
"Ridiculous!" Marlboro said indignantly and then chuckled good-humoredly. "Oh, I see what you're doing. You're trying some of the old tricks from the 20th century. Well, I like a game of wits, too. Look what else this model will do."
While Perry watched, the Serve-All repaired a broken knob on a plastic chest, cleaned the rug and etched a mural of a voluptuous nude on one blank wall.
"If you'll excuse me," Perry murmured, "it's time for me to go to work."
"Of course, of course," the Master laughed jovially.
In rapid succession a comb dressed Perry's hair, his robe and pajamas were whisked off and his street clothes came floating out of the closet on more invisible fingers of energy.
Before he knew it, he was ready for work.
"I really must be going, too," Marlboro said, "if you'll just sign here."
"How much is it?"