“Of course we have faults—all of us,” she said. “In one way you might say that we have more than we used to—that is, our standard of perfection seems to get farther and farther away. But we are not discouraged, because our records do show gain—considerable gain.
“When we began—even with the start of one particularly noble mother—we inherited the characteristics of a long race-record behind her. And they cropped out from time to time—alarmingly. But it is—yes, quite six hundred years since we have had what you call a ‘criminal.’
“We have, of course, made it our first business to train out, to breed out, when possible, the lowest types.”
“Breed out?” I asked. “How could you—with parthenogenesis?”
“If the girl showing the bad qualities had still the power to appreciate social duty, we appealed to her, by that, to renounce motherhood. Some of the few worst types were, fortunately, unable to reproduce. But if the fault was in a disproportionate egotism—then the girl was sure she had the right to have children, even that hers would be better than others.”
“I can see that,” I said. “And then she would be likely to rear them in the same spirit.”
“That we never allowed,” answered Somel quietly.
“Allowed?” I queried. “Allowed a mother to rear her own children?”
“Certainly not,” said Somel, “unless she was fit for that supreme task.”
This was rather a blow to my previous convictions.