She should have guessed, she thought bitterly. She had been sold a bill of goods. And there was no going back now; she was stuck with it.
Stuck with it.
She took another look. At least it would be healthy, and there was something besides the concrete and granite of a city to look at. It wouldn't be day in and day out of sitting eight hours behind a typewriter, and then back to her lonesome two rooms for an evening of bridge or a night with a boring book.
And there was nothing wrong with the town that couldn't be remedied and improved with a little work. She and the others would see to that. Progress was going to hit Landing City whether the colonists like it or not.
The colonists....
She stared at the whiskery, ragged lot of men of all shapes and sizes that were waiting to welcome them.
They had probably, she thought queerly, never heard a lecture on art in their lives. And they wouldn't have any interest in historical novels and it was an even-money bet that bridge and canasta games would bore them.
They were uncultured, she thought happily, thoroughly uncultured! Their main interest was probably in having a home and raising a family and working....
And with a shave and clean clothes, they might even be handsome! A dimly remembered poster of a blond-haired giant flashed into her mind, but she dismissed it. The men below had a hard, healthy look about them, a certain virility, an individuality that the pale men back on Earth, now that she thought of it, seemed to lack.
She was very definitely going to like it here.