At the cave he called all the settlers before him. They came from their tasks, surprised, wondering. He wasted no time. He broached the subject boldly.
"Because we ten are marooned here on a desert satellite," he said savagely, "without a clergyman, there is no reason we must abandon all the rights and privileges of civilized society. Human emotions have a habit of enduring. I think it is no secret that Crystal Andrews and I have fallen in love. I intend, therefore, to marry her as soon as it can be arranged.
"Crystal—" He turned to the girl. "Do I speak for you as well as for myself?"
The girl nodded and stepped forward into the circle of his arm. "You know you do, Greg."
J. Foster Andrews looked pleased. He said, "That's fine, son. But who's going to do the marrying?"
"You are. As owner of the Carefree, you were also its commander. I think the space code would permit your acting in capacity of justice." Greg's anger melted. "I'm not being very formal about this, sir. Perhaps I should ask for your permission."
"You have it, my boy! And now—" Archly. "When will the—hrrumph!—happy event take place?"
Greg looked at Crystal questioningly. "Next week?" she said, "I'll have to have a little time, Greg."
"That's it, then," said Greg. "Next week. When the dark period comes."