What could he say? It was almost true. Phyllis was a beautiful girl and he loved her, but, if he had planned to remain as an instructor with the Romance Languages Department instead of joining the scout mission, he knew he would never have asked her to be his wife ... for her sake, of course, as well as his own. He should say something to reassure her, but the words wouldn't come. "I don't like it here," Phyllis sobbed. "I don't like blue leaves. I don't like blue grass. I like them green, the way they're supposed to be. I hate this nasty planet. It's all wrong. I want to go home." She was very young--less than eight years younger than he, true, but he was mature for his age. They didn't know each other very well. And, finally, there were more men than women on the planet and he had noticed that the bachelors had seemed readily disposed, upon her arrival the day before, to overlook the fact that she had no college degree. So he must be patient with her. "There's nothing wrong about it, dear. The plants here synthesize cyanophyll instead of chlorophyll; that's why the leaves are blue instead of green. And, of course, there are different mineral constituents of the soil--more aluminum and copper, for instance, than on Earth, and some elements we haven't quite isolated yet. So, you see, they're bound to be a little different from Terrestrial trees." "A little different I wouldn't mind," she said sulkily, "but they're a lot different without being nearly alien enough." "Look, Phyllis--_dear_--those trees have been very hospitable, very kind. We owe them a lot. They themselves suggested that we come here and live with them in, so to speak, symbiosis." "That's a fine idea!" * * * * * He beamed. "I knew you'd understand after I had explained it to you." "We provide the brains and they provide the furniture." "Phyllis! What a thing to say!" "I've heard of man-eating trees before. I suppose there could be man-loving ones, too." "Phyllis, these trees are as gentle and sweet as--as--" He didn't know how he could explain it to her. No one who had never been friends with a tree could appreciate the true beauty of the xylemic character. "Why, we even offered to go over to the other side of the planet and fetch some pollen for them, but they wouldn't hear of it. Unfortunately, they'd rather die than be mated to anyone they had never met." "What a perfectly disgusting idea!" "I don't think so. Trees can be idealistic--" "You fetching pollen for her, I mean. Naturally she wouldn't want pollen from a tree on the other side of the planet. She wants _you_!" "Don't be silly. Incompatibility usually exists between the pollen of one species and the stigmata of another. Besides," he added patiently, "I haven't got pollen." "You'd better not, or it won't be her who'll have the stigmata." "Phyllis--" he sat down on the arm of her chair and tried to embrace her--"you know that you're the only life-form I love."