Helena. I’m a stupid girl. Send me back by the first ship.
Dr. Gall. Not for anything in the world, Miss Glory. Why should we send you back?
Domin. If it would amuse you, Miss Glory, I’ll take you down to the Robot warehouse. It holds about three hundred thousand of them.
Busman. Three hundred and forty-seven thousand.
Domin. Good, and you can say whatever you like to them. You can read the Bible, recite the multiplication table, whatever you please. You can even preach to them about human rights.
Helena. Oh, I think that if you were to show them a little love.
Fabry. Impossible, Miss Glory! Nothing is harder to like than a Robot.
Helena. What do you make them for, then?
Busman. Ha, ha, ha! That’s good. What are Robots made for?