nightcaps. Lucy Wilson nervously put a reducegar to her
sophisticated, peppermint-striped lips.

Quickly Ben Tilman was on his feet. He pulled a small, metal cylinder
from his pocket with a flourish and held it out on his open palm toward
Lucy. A tiny robot Statue of Liberty climbed from the cylinder, walked
across Ben's hand, smiled, curtsied and reached out to light the
reducegar with her torch, piping in a high, thin voice, "Amalgamated
reducegars are cooler, lighter, finer."

"Ben! How simply darling!"

"Do you like it? It's a new thing from Amalgamated NovelDiv. You can
program it for up to a hundred selective sell phrases, audio or visio
key. Every salesman should have one. Makes a marvelous gift, and
surprisingly reasonable."

"So that's it, Ben. I just love it!"

"Good! It's yours, compliments of Amalgamated."

"But--then you're not selling them? Well, what on earth--?"

"Damn it, Ben," Fred Stoddard broke in, "come on, man, out with it. What
in hell _are_ you selling? You've given us the shakes. What is it? The
Barboy set? It's great. If I can scrape up the down payment, I'll--"

"_After_ we furnish a nursery with a decent Nana, Fred Stoddard," Nancy
snapped, "and get a second soar-kart. Ben isn't selling Barboys anyway,
are you. Ben? It _is_ that sweet, sweet Nana, isn't it? And I do want
one, the whole nursery, Playmate and all, girl-programmed of course,
for our Polly."

"_Is_ it the nursery, Betty?" Lucy pitched in her credit's worth. "Make
him tell us, darling. We have enjoyed everything so much, the dinner,
the Tri-deo, this whole lovely, lovely place of yours. Certainly the
house warming has been perfectly charming."

"And that's it," said Ben smiling, a sheaf of paper forms suddenly in
his hand.

"What? Not--?"

"The house, yes. Amalgamated's Country Gentleman Estate, complete,
everything in it except Bennie, Betty and me. Your equity in your Center
co-op can serve as down payment, easy three-generation terms, issue
insurance. Actually, I can show you how, counting in your entertainment,
vacation, incidental, and living expenses, the Country Gentleman will
honestly cost you less."

"Ben!"

"How simply too clever!"

Ben let it rest there. It was enough. Fred Stoddard, after a short
scuffle with Scoville Wilson for the pen, signed the contract with a
flourish. Sco followed.

"There!"

"There now, Ben," said Betty, holding Bennie a little awkwardly in her
arms in the soar-kart. They