Helena. But—but tell me, are the Robots male and female, mutually—completely without—
Domin. Completely indifferent to each other, Miss Glory. There’s no sign of any affection between them.
Helena. Oh, that’s terrible.
Domin. Why?
Helena. It’s so unnatural. One doesn’t know whether to be disgusted or to hate them, or perhaps—
Domin. To pity them. (Smiles.)
Helena. That’s more like it. What did you want to ask me?
Domin. I should like to ask you, Miss Helena, if you will marry me.
Helena. What? (Rises.)
Domin. Will you be my wife? (Rises.)