Of course, Mrs. Farley, womanlike, had to ask him if his radio set, which he always wore on Poros, was not awfully uncomfortable.
“Not at all!” he replied. “I see that you wear glasses. Do they not bother you?”
“No,” she said. “At first they did, but now I really never notice I have them on.”
“And I’ll venture to state,” he asserted, “that they are as natural to you as a part of your own body; that you never bother about them, except to adjust them or to clean them occasionally; and that, even then, you do it unconsciously and instinctively?”
“Yes,” she admitted.
“Well, that is just the way my artificial speech organs are to me.”
Shortly after, or perhaps it was during, his narration of his adventures, it occurred to me to ask him about the device which had shot him from Poros back to earth.
“How were you able to transmit yourself through space?” I inquired.
“That is a secret known only to Prince Toron, Oya Buh and myself. I doubt if the world is ready for it. And yet, it is very simple. Invention merely consists in realizing a need, and then in devising means to fulfill that need.”
“Humph! Absurdly simple, isn’t it?” I interjected sarcastically, for I was peeved at his superior tone.