"You don't say!"
"They left the earth a long time ago. They've traveled between the stars for centuries and centuries!"
"That's wonderful, dear. Help me with this pot of dye, will you, Seth?"
Sethos drew back, unbelieving.
"Ela.... The stars are trillions of miles apart. Men have learned to fly between them somehow!"
"It's breathtaking. The dye?"
"Quintillions, some of them! Think of it, Ela!" Sethos was shaking with agitation.
"Dearest," said Ela, moving away from him, "do you think we might move closer to Center after my Plaza crystal is finished? I'd like to be able to look out and see it every morning in the sun...."
She wasn't listening! She didn't care!
"Ela. Ela, love—listen to me! What's wrong with you? Can't you see?" His voice shrank to a whisper.