tatus
clear or risk going hungry.

_If I sit down somewhere_, he decided, _it may recognize me as human.
What a stupid machine to have!_

He started around the end of the table again, but the striped robot
moved to intercept him. Robert stopped.

"Oh, well," he sighed, sitting sidewise on a corner of the table.

The robot hesitated, made one or two false starts in different
directions, then halted. The situation had apparently not been
included among its memory tapes. Robert grinned and lifted the cover
of the nearest platter.

He managed to eat, despite his ungraceful position and what he
considered the scarcity of the food. Just as he finished the last
dish, he heard footsteps in the hall.

Marcia-Joan had dressed in a fresh robe, of crimson. Its thinner
material was gathered at the waist by clasps of gleaming gold. The
arrangement emphasized bodily contours Robert had previously seen only
in historical films.

He became aware that she was regarding him with much the same
suggestion of helpless dismay as the major-domo.

"Why, you've eaten it all!" she exclaimed.

"All?" snorted Robert. "There was hardly any food!"

Marcia-Joan walked slowly around the table, staring at the empty
dishes.

"A few bits of raw vegetables and the tiniest portion of
protein-concentrate I ever saw!" Robert continued. "Do you call that a
dinner to serve a guest?"

"And I especially ordered two portions--"

"Two?" Robert repeated in astonishment. "You must visit me sometime.
I'll show you--"

"What's the matter with my food?" interrupted the girl. "I follow the
best diet advice my robots could find in the city library."

"They should have looked for human diets, not song-birds'."

He lifted a cover in hopes of finding some overlooked morsel, but the
platter was bare.

"No wonder you act so strangely," he said. "You must be suffering from
malnutrition. I don't wonder with a skimpy diet like this."

"It's very healthful," insisted Marcia-Joan. "The old film said it was
good for the figure, too."

"Not interested," grunted Robert. "I'm satisfied as I am."

"Oh, yes? You look gawky to me."

"_You_ don't," retorted Robert, examining her disdainfully. "You are
short and stubby and too plump."

"_Plump?_"

"Worse, you're actually fat in lots of places I'm not."

"At least not between the ears!"

Robert blinked.

"Wh-wh-WHAT?"

"And besides," she stormed on, "those robots you brought are painted
the most repulsi