Cortland went on. "Anyone who likes being in on that sort of thing packs up and emigrates to this village. I don't know whether you've noticed, but these people are pretty casual about moving from one town to another. Anyway, when your would-be politician gets here, the people take him in and watch him awhile, and then, if they like him all right, he's put on the Council. What a system! The truth is, most of the Nemarians consider political work something of a nuisance and would just as soon somebody else did it. They don't care for power the way we do. They look on it as just a heavy responsibility and a burden."
Kirk shifted his leg uncomfortably, feeling a bit self-conscious.
"By the way," Cortland added casually, "how are you getting on with that girl?"
"What girl?"
"That beautiful creature who keeps house for you."
"Nanae?"
"Yes, Nanae. The beauty of the village, the girl who cooks breakfast for you, the head of the Council—"
"What did you say? What was that about the Council?"
"She's head of the Council. Didn't you know?"
"How can she be? She's a maid, she—"