“Well, that is abrupt,” Zenith quickly responded. “Do you know, Thorwald and I were talking only this morning about your apparent fondness for the society of Avis. Are you forgetting Mona?”
This was getting into the subject faster than I had intended, and I determined to take my time, so I said:
“Zenith, this province must be the New England of Mars, by the way you evade my question and ask another.”
“But you wouldn’t expect me to answer such a question offhand. You see, it contains several new ideas. First, I didn’t know you thought of returning to the earth. Then I am surprised that you should want to take anybody with you. And, finally, I am more surprised that you should choose Avis rather than Mona. Now that I have explained so fully, may I not ask you again if this means that you are forgetting Mona?”
“Mona is not able to sing for me,” I said.
“And do your ideas of what is right allow you to become indifferent to her as soon as she loses one of her attractions? Here her misfortune would tend to make her only more dear to one who really loved her.”
To which I made haste to answer:
“I am proud to tell you, Zenith, that such sentiments prevail on the earth, too, and I have been trying hard to hold them in my own breast. But in living with you I am learning to be honest, and it would not be right for me to deny that Mona’s chief charm for me is gone from her, and is in the possession of another. The voice of Avis has the same power over me that Mona’s formerly had, and shall I fight against my growing fondness for Avis?”
“Is your race so little developed, then,” asked Zenith, “that your ears are the only avenue to your hearts?”
Before I could answer, Mona herself came bounding into the room, and Zenith continued: