“Our complete itinerary has been arranged in advance,” she continued, “and all our needs will be provided for by the State, just as the State provides for us when we’re at home. Obviously, that’s the only possible way.” “Then is there no such thing as private property in Atlantis?” I inquired. “Private property?” She looked puzzled, as though trying to assimilate an alien point of view. “What would be the use of private property?” Then, seeing the dull stare with which I replied, she proceeded, “Of course, I remember that there used to be private property in the old days, before the Submergence. But that has all been abolished long ago.” “Is it possible?” I exclaimed, thinking this the most incredible statement I had yet heard. “Well, not quite all abolished,” she amended, thoughtfully. “Our clothes and books and personal ornaments are still private property, of course.” “But does the State supply one with everything else?” “Yes, with everything, including one’s clothes. You’ll see for yourself when you return from this trip and set out as a citizen.” Thereupon she told me a few more facts about the State control of property, and how things such as inheritance and taxation were unknown. Then gradually the conversation shifted to less impersonal and more alluring subjects. She asked me about the world I had come from, and whether it had any architectural marvels rivalling those of Thalos; and I replied that it had not, though the skyscrapers of New York were considered wondrous enough. I was reluctant to talk about my own world, however; I did not wish to be disturbed by remembrances; I desired only to be walking with Aelios as I was walking now, and to hear her speak, and to be permitted to look into those bright and glamorous blue eyes of hers. And so I listened like one in a trance as she told me of her life, and how she had been the eldest child of two celebrated artists and had never lacked anything she really wanted, and how from her earliest years she had loved music and the dance, but particularly the dance, and had followed her childhood inclinations in her chosen work for the State, though in her prescribed work she was a tutor. All this and much more Aelios told me about herself, while I heard her with adoration that must have been all too apparent in my fascinated gaze. But she seemed without self-consciousness and without realization of the tender sentiments welling up within me; and she rambled eagerly on and on, speaking with animation and vivacity, as one speaks to an old and amiable companion. We must have strolled through the rambling thoroughfares for an hour, when we seated ourselves on a cushioned marble bench at one corner of a wide court. “If we stay here until dark,” suggested Aelios, “you will see one of the most curious exhibitions that you have ever seen.”