"Why not?" the queen demanded, imperiously.
Dynamon shook his head helplessly. He was trying to think of some tactful way of telling this spoiled little woman that his heart already belonged to Keltry.
"Well, perhaps you have noticed," he began, "that someone else on this expedition has a—a claim—er—"
"Who do you mean?" the Queen interrupted, "The tall, dark man? The one called Mortoch?"
"Mortoch?" said Dynamon wonderingly.
"Yes, isn't that what you're trying to tell me? Mortoch! That's very interesting," said the Queen dreamily, "Come to think of it, I had noticed that he looked at me very intensely."
A great light dawned on Dynamon. The Queen was jumping to a quite different set of conclusions. He had tried to tell her that he was in love with Keltry, and she thought he was telling her that Mortoch was in love with her, the Queen!
"I think that is very generous of you, Dynamon," said the Queen with a brilliant smile. "You are standing aside in favor of Mortoch because in your eyes, his bravery in facing the Martians gives him a greater claim on my hand."
Dynamon nodded wisely.