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As I mentioned before, Marge was always easy to look at. That night, she was practically ravishing.

“What are you doing to her?” I asked George Prime later, out in the workshop.

“Why, nothing,” said George Prime, looking innocent. He couldn’t fool me with his look, though, because it was exactly the look I use when I’m guilty and pretending to be innocent.

“There must be something.”

George Prime shrugged. “Any woman will warm up if you spend enough time telling her all the things she wants to hear and pay all the attention to her that she wants paid to her. That’s elemental psychology. I can give you page references.”

I ought to mention that George Prime had a complete set of basic texts run into his circuits, at a slightly additional charge. Never can tell when an odd bit of information will come in useful.

“Well, you must be doing quite a job,” I said. I’d never managed to warm Marge up much.

“I try,” said George Prime.

“Oh, I’m not complaining,” I hastened to add, forgetting that a Prime’s feelings can’t be hurt and that he was only acting like me because it was in character. “I was just curious.”