Odaan didn't live in West o' Mars; I built it later. He had a square, sprawling chunk of buildings under a dome out in the center of the Lacus Lucrinus lowland. It was a crude display of raw wealth in execrable taste, with 14th century tapestries and neo-modern furniture mixed up in rooms which might be of Egypto-Cretan architecture. I saw nothing he owned to excite my envy--until, on a sage-jumping jaunt across the lowland the second day of our visit, I climbed the western cliff and saw the desert. Bleak, lonely beauty has a strong appeal for me, Mr. Peache. Perhaps it is because it strikes a chord in the bleakness and loneliness of my own heart. But I never had seen anything before, and I never have seen anything since, to match the stark beauty of those buttes in the Aeolia Desert, as seen from the western cliffs of Lacus Lucrinus. It was then that the conception of West o' Mars, as it could be and should be, sprang full-blown to my mind. I tell you, Mr. Peache, I saw this place then in my imagination, just as it is today, with this tower and this great window that overlooks the desert. I had to have Lacus Lucrinus. And Leswill Odaan owned it. When I got back to the dome, I tried to buy the lowland from him. He laughed and named a price that was beyond even my means. It was not that he was particularly fond of the place; he just didn't care to sell. I studied my man for the weakness that would give me what I wanted. He was a big man, a boisterous man who loved action and talk. He was younger than I, and handsome, with the rich good looks inherited from his Black Irish ancestors. One thing I noted, and filed in my mind in case it should prove valuable. He liked Dori. He was a bachelor, as were most of his guests, for women were scarce on Mars then. He knew she was my wife, but he couldn't keep his eyes from her. I think perhaps it was the appeal to such a man as Odaan of that childish wistfulness and helplessness in her which I have described to you. What gave me my lead was seeing him play roulette that evening. The sparkle of the born gambler shone in his eyes, and he pushed the stakes up and up, much too high for a sociable game. At that moment, I decided to break my resolution not to gamble on Mars. * * * * * It was not hard to talk Odaan and several other men into a game the next night. I wanted dice, but Odaan preferred cards. The others didn't seem to care. At last, Odaan turned to Dori, who was standing at my side. "I'll leave the decision to Mrs. Britt," he said, smiling up at her. "Which shall it be, Mrs. Britt--dice or cards?" My heart leaped, for Dori knew why I preferred dice. "Cards," she said in a cold voice, and walked away. Well, if Dori were going to take that attitude, cards would be better for me anyhow. She might turn the dice against me. I didn't fear my ability at cards.