"A woman—yes; but remember that she is a woman of another planet. She might not make a suitable wife for you."
"I love her. I love her as I can never love a woman of our world. She is a thousand times more beautiful and good than any woman I have ever known. She is an ideal woman—a perfect woman—an angel in human form."
"That may be; but what will her family say?"
"My dear Gazen, don't you know they manage these things better here. Thank goodness, the 'family' does not interfere with love affairs in this happy land! We love each other, we have agreed to be married, and that is quite sufficient. No need to get the 'consent of the parents,' or make a 'settlement,' or give out the banns, or buy a government license as though a wife were contraband goods, or hire a string of four-wheelers, or tip the pew-opener. What has love to do with pew-openers? Why should the finest thing in life become the prey of such vulgar parasites? Why should our heavenliest moments be profaned and spoiled by needless worries—hateful to the name of love? Our wedding will be very simple. We shall not even want you as groomsman or Miss Carmichael as bridesmaid. I daresay we shall get along without cake and speeches, and as for the rice and old boots, upon my word, I don't think we shall miss them."
"And if it is a fair question, when will the—the simple ceremony take place?"
"To-morrow evening."
"To-morrow evening!" exclaimed the professor, taken by surprise. "I thought a priestess could not marry."
"To-morrow at sunset she will be a free woman. Her priesthood will come to an end."
"And—pardon me—but what are you going to do with her when you've got her? Will you bring her home to the car—there is very little room here, as you know. Do you propose to take her to the earth, where I'm afraid she will probably die like a tender plant or a bird of paradise in a cage? Do you think her father would consent to that?"
"We are not going away just yet. There will be time enough to arrange about that."