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- Исаак Азимов
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He
was
speaking
,
and
she
felt
the
cold
glass
pressing
against
her
lips
.
She
swallowed
and
shuddered
into
a
pertain
awareness
of
her
surroundings
.
Still
Herbie
spoke
,
and
there
was
agitation
in
his
voice
--
as
if
he
were
hurt
and
frightened
and
pleading
.
The
words
were
beginning
to
make
sense
.
"
This
is
a
dream
,
"
he
was
saying
,
"
and
you
must
n't
believe
in
it
.
You
'll
wake
into
the
real
world
soon
and
laugh
at
yourself
.
He
loves
you
,
I
tell
you
.
He
does
,
he
does
!
But
not
here
!
Not
now
!
This
is
an
illusion
.
"
Susan
Calvin
nodded
,
her
voice
a
whisper
,
"
Yes
!
Yes
!
"
She
was
clutching
Herbie
's
arm
,
clinging
to
it
,
repeating
over
and
over
,
"
It
is
n't
true
,
is
it
?
It
is
n't
,
is
it
?
"
Just
how
she
came
to
her
senses
,
she
never
knew
--
but
it
was
like
passing
from
a
world
of
misty
unreality
to
one
of
harsh
sunlight
.
She
pushed
him
away
from
her
,
pushed
hard
against
that
steely
arm
,
and
her
eyes
were
wide
.
"
What
are
you
trying
to
do
?
"
Her
voice
rose
to
a
harsh
scream
.
"
What
are
you
trying
to
do
?
"
Herbie
backed
away
,
"
I
want
to
help
"
The
psychologist
stared
,
"
Help
?
By
telling
me
this
is
a
dream
?
By
trying
to
push
me
into
schizophrenia
?
"
A
hysterical
tenseness
seized
her
,
"
This
is
no
dream
!
I
wish
it
were
!
"
She
drew
her
breath
sharply
,
"
Wait
!
Why
...
why
,
I
understand
.
Merciful
Heavens
,
it
's
so
obvious
.
"
There
was
horror
in
the
robot
's
voice
,
"
I
had
to
!
"
