Helena. What a feast! And what’s the specialty of Mr.—your builder?
Domin. Alquist? Nothing. He only lays the table. And Fabry will get together a little fruit. Our cuisine is very modest, Miss Glory.
Helena. (Thoughtfully) I wanted to ask you something—
Domin. And I wanted to ask you something too—they’ll be back in five minutes. (Looks at door R.)
Helena. What did you want to ask me? (Sits C.)
Domin. Excuse me, you asked first. (Sits L. of her.)
Helena. Perhaps it’s silly of me, but why do you manufacture female Robots when—when—
Domin. When sex means nothing to them?
Helena. Yes.
Domin. There’s a certain demand for them, you see. Servants, saleswomen, stenographers. People are used to it.