“Are you at leisure to accompany us, Sally?” asked Sheldon insinuatingly; “or do instructions begin at once? No occasion to stare,” he replied to my look; “you have not been secretive. The women over here are all alike. When time hangs heavy and my mind unoccupied, I am to teach a couple of sweet morsels the art of love also, which, it seems, only the ancients knew anything about. Innocence, however, is a thorough accomplishment in this wonderful land of advancement. It will take centuries of progression before the charm of this trait is valued by the women of our world. Knowledge is the admitted great passion over here, the foundation of existence, etc., and sought from cradle to grave, even then not abandoned; hence, the Centauri brain is ever active, verdant, and dogged ennui as Love is a dead evil. Here a man is judged by deeds and what he knows, not by what he’s worth. Wealth, the common, is thought of with indifference, poverty has become obsolete. You see I did not waste my time this evening and, Sally, you have a powerful rival. You will lose, of course; that’s what you came over here for, to experience a losing game, never having done so before. But look sharp, ice-crusted volcanoes are risky toys. Notice anything peculiar about the remarkable Alpha? Certainly not; you are too much in love,” he added hastily, not giving me time to reply. “She is different from all the women of this land. The first Centauri was an off-shoot of the Potolili or Octrogona tribes—mark that! She has colored blood. I suspected it when I saw the old boy; but one glance at your divinity and all doubts vanished.” “She is the most beautiful woman in the world!” I cried hotly. “She is ravishingly beautiful,” he replied; “but no white woman looks quite as she does. She is superb, but——. Take care, Sally, should you tire, as you are apt to—all men do—Centauri would be a dangerous place for us.” He stretched and yawned, while I, too full of emotion to retort, glared scornfully. He laughed good-humoredly as I hastened to my apartment. CHAPTER XII. The following day dawned clear, bright and hot. The heat irritated Sheldon and inspired orative propensities in Saxe.; both were engaged in argument as I entered the room reserved for—er—gossip. “They are certainly a cold-blooded, soulless race,” agreed Saxe. to Sheldon’s testy exclamation: “Fish!”