He pressed her hand—now so warm, yet so cold only a few minutes before.
"Yes," he answered. "Yet, isn't it beautiful, with its blazing lights and black-velvet shadows? We shall never see anything like it again—unless we make another trip to the moon."
"The sun doesn't seem to move at all," she hazarded.
"It's because the days are so long," he replied. "The sun's motion would be hardly perceptible on the earth if our days were ten times longer than they are."
"But what nights!" she ejaculated.
"No longer—not so long as those near the terrestrial poles," continued Bennie. "The earth stays always in the same spot in the sky, just where we see it now as a huge crescent near the sun. As the sun sinks toward the horizon, the earth waxes like the moon seen from the earth, reaching its half-stage at sunset. Then, through the long lunar night it grows, until, at seven of our days after sundown, it becomes full. Then it wanes again, reaching the half at sunrise a week later. If we had landed on the other side of the moon, the earth would have remained invisible. If there were people living on the other side, they would never see the earth—their moon—at all—"
"Unless they came over to this side for an excursion," interpolated Rhoda.
"The earth would be worth their seeing, all right!" chuckled Burke. "And think of the wonderful lunar light! I wish we could stay until sunset and see the moon by earth-light."
"Tea is served!" called Atterbury, and they all gathered hungrily around the chart-table.
"I bet we're the first folks that ever had tea on the moon," remarked Burke.