Я, Робот

           "Thirty-eightasyoucounttheyears;ashriveledsixtyasfarasmyemotionaloutlookonlifeisconcerned.AmIapsychologistfornothing?"

           Shedroveonwithbitterbreathlessness,"Andhe’sbarelythirty-fiveandlooksandactsyounger.Doyousupposeheeverseesmeasanythingbut...butwhatIam?"

           "Youarewrong!"Herbie’ssteelfiststrucktheplastictoppedtablewithastridentclang."Listentome-"

           ButSusanCalvinwhirledonhimnowandthehuntedpaininhereyesbecameablaze,"WhyshouldI?Whatdoyouknowaboutitall,anyway,you...youmachine.I’mjustaspecimentoyou;aninterestingbugwithapeculiarmindspread-eagledforinspection.It’sawonderfulexampleoffrustration,isn’tit?Almostasgoodasyourbooks."Hervoice,emergingindrysobs,chokedintosilence.

           Therobotcoweredattheoutburst.Heshookhisheadpleadingly."Won’tyoulistentome,please?Icouldhelpyouifyouwouldletme."

           "How?"Herlipscurled."Bygivingmegoodadvice?"

           "No,notthat.It’sjustthatIknowwhatotherpeoplethink–MiltonAshe,forinstance."

           Therewasalongsilence,andSusanCalvin’seyesdropped."Idon’twanttoknowwhathethinks,"shegasped."Keepquiet."

           "Ithinkyouwouldwanttoknowwhathethinks"

           Herheadremainedbent,butherbreathcamemorequickly."Youaretalkingnonsense,"shewhispered.

           "WhyshouldI?Iamtryingtohelp.MiltonAshe’sthoughtsofyou-"hepaused.

           Andthenthepsychologistraisedherhead,"Well?"

           Therobotsaidquietly,"Helovesyou."

           Forafullminute,Dr.Calvindidnotspeak.