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his mustache-Sir had a very conspicuous mustache, a great flaring woolly brush of a mustache-and he scowled the sort of scowl that Andrew, whose experience with human facial expressions was still somewhat limited, nevertheless understood to be a very serious scowl indeed.
    "Did you actually make this thing, Andrew?"
    "Yes, Sir."
    "Robots aren't capable of lying, you know."
    "That is not entirely correct, Sir. I could lie if I were ordered to lie, or if it were necessary for me to tell some untruth in order to keep a human being from harm, or even if my own safety were-" He paused. "But I did indeed carve this for Little Miss."
    "And the design, too? You're responsible for that?"
    "Yes, Sir."
    "What did you copy it from?"
    "Copy it, Sir?"
    "You couldn't just have invented it out of thin air. You got it out of some book, right? Or you used a computer to plot it out for you, or else-"
    "I assure you, Sir, I did nothing more than study the raw material for a time until I came to understand how best to carve it into some shape that would be pleasing to Little Miss. And then I carved it."
    "Using what sort of tools, may I ask?"
    "A small knife from the kitchen, Sir, which Little Miss kindly provided for me."
    "A knife from the kitchen," Sir repeated, in an oddly flat tone. Slowly shaking his head, he hefted the carving in his hand as though he found its beauty almost incomprehensible. " A knife from the kitchen. She gave you a piece of driftwood and an ordinary little kitchen knife and with no other tool than that you were able to make this. "
    "Yes, Sir."
    The next day Sir brought Andrew another piece of wood from the beach, a larger one that was bent and weathered and stained from its long immersion in the sea. He gave Andrew an electric vibro-knife, and showed him how to use it.
    He said, "Make something out of this chunk of wood, Andrew. Anything you want to. I simply want to watch you while you're doing it."
    "Certainly, Sir."
    Andrew pondered the driftwood for a time, and then he switched on the vibro-knife and watched the movements of its blade edge, using his very finest optical focus, until he understood what sort of results the knife would be able to produce, and then finally he began to work. Sir sat right next to him, but as Andrew set about the task of carving he became barely aware of the human being adjacent to him. He was wholly focused on his task. All that mattered to him at that moment was the piece of wood, and the vibro-knife, and the vision of the thing that he intended to bring forth from the wood.
    When he was done, he handed the carving to Sir, and went to fetch the dust-pan so that he could sweep up the shavings. Upon his return to the room he found Sir sitting motionless, staring at the carving in a kind of numb, stunned way.
    "I asked for a household robot of the NDR series," Sir said softly. "I don't remember specifying anything about special craftsman adaptations."
    "Indeed, Sir. I am an NDR household robot. I have no specialized implants having to do with craft skills."
    "Yet you made this. I saw you do it with my own eyes."
    "That is so, Sir."
    "Could you make other things out of wood, do you think? Cabinets, let's say? Desks? Lamps? Large-scale sculptures?"
    "I am unable to tell you, Sir. I have never attempted such things."
    "Well, you will now."
    After that, Andrew spent very little time preparing meals and waiting at the table, or doing the other minor jobs around the house that had become part of his daily routine. He was ordered to read books on woodcarving and design, with a special emphasis on furniture-making, and one of the empty attic rooms was set aside as a workshop for him.
    Although he continued to carve small wooden trinkets for Miss and Little Miss and occasionally for Ma'am as well-bracelets, earrings, necklaces, pendants-Andrew devoted much of his time, at Sir's suggestion, to such things as cabinets and desks. His designs were striking and unusual. He employed rare and exotic woods