At six o'clock, three hours after he had entered Lexington's plant, Peter left. Lexington did not follow him down the corridor. He seemed exhausted after the afternoon's discussion and indicated that Peter should find his own way out. This, of course, presented no difficulty, with Lex opening the doors for him, but it gave Peter an opportunity he had been hoping for.
He stopped in the reception room before crossing the threshold of the front door, which stood open for him. He turned and spoke to the apparently empty room. "Lex?" he said.
He wanted to say that he was flattered that he was being considered for the job; it was what a job-seeker should say, at that point, to the boss's secretary. But when the soft voice came back—"Yes, Mr. Manners?"—saying anything like that to a machine felt suddenly silly.
He said: "I wanted you to know that it was a pleasure to meet you."
"Thank you," said the voice.
If it had said more, he might have, but it didn't. Still feeling a little embarrassed, he went home.
At four in the morning, his phone rang. It was Lexington.
"Manners!" the old man gasped.
The voice was an alarm. Manners sat bolt upright, clutching the phone. "What's the matter, sir?"