Then he went on, "Ah, now I see the difference."
"What difference? Between what?"
"Between the daughter of Earth and the daughters of Ganymede," he
replied. "You can blush, and I don't think they can. Haven't you noticed
that, although they have the most exquisite skins and beautiful eyes and
hair and all that sort of thing, not a man or woman of them has any
colouring? I suppose that's the result of living for generations in a
hothouse."
"Very likely," she said; "but has it struck you also that all the girls
and women are either beautiful or handsome, and all the men, except the
ones that seem to be servants or slaves, are something like Greek gods,
or, at least, the sort of men you see on the Greek sculptures?"
"Survival of the fittest, I presume. These are probably the descendants
of the highest races of Ganymede; the people who conceived the idea of
prolonging the life of their race and were able to carry it out. The
inferior races would either perish of starvation or become their
servants. That's what will happen on Earth, and there is no reason why
it shouldn't have happened here."
As he said this the car swung out round a broad curve into the centre of
the great square, and a little cry of amazement broke from Zaidie's lips
as her glance roamed over the multiplying splendours about her.
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