“There’s the poor child now. How can you be so unkind to her?”
“Who’s unkind to me?” asked Mona in her sign language.
“Zenith thinks I am,” I answered.
“Why, you are mistaken, Zenith; he is just the opposite. We have always loved each other, and I think more of him than ever since I lost my voice, and he has ceased making serious speeches to me that I can’t understand. I wish you could see how he enjoys hearing Avis sing.”
In this way Mona proved to Zenith that she was not heart-broken. I was going to explain the matter myself, but was glad to have Mona take it out of my hands.
The most difficult task yet remained. I must tell Avis how affairs stood; and yet, was it the proper thing for me to do? I wondered how the delicate subject of making love was handled in Mars, where the two sexes were perfectly equal. Which one was to make the advances? The matter is simple enough on the earth, where women are inferior and dependent. Of course, they must smother their own feelings and wait to be discovered, while the men can make their selection, and if they do not succeed at first can simply try again. That is entirely proper, and everybody knows just what to do; but here things are probably different. I don’t want to make a failure in this case, as I did with Mona, not knowing the customs of the moon-dwellers. Perhaps my best way will be to try a little coquetry and pretend I do not care for her nor her singing. That may draw her on to make some avowal to me.
I had gone so far in my deliberations, when I was interrupted by the doctor, who called to ask if I did not want to go out with him. I consented reluctantly, as I preferred to go on with my thinking till I could come to some decision. But the doctor had a purpose in taking me out, and, as soon as a good opportunity presented itself, he said, inquiringly:
“You find Avis a pretty good singer?”
“Excellent.”
“And good company?”