For a minute or two she watched the entangled young man, eyes still wide with the excitement of the chase, full delicate lips softly parted; and her intent and earnest face reflected modest triumph charmingly modified by an involuntary sympathy—the natural tribute of a generous sportswoman to the quarry successfully stalked and bagged.
Cautiously, now, but without hesitation she advanced to the edge of the stream, picked her way cleverly across it on the stones, and, leaping lightly to the bank, stood looking down at Langdon, who had ceased his contortions and now lay flat on his back, gazing skyward, a grin on his otherwise attractive countenance.
He smiled up at her through the meshes of the net when he encountered her curious eyes, expecting immediate release.
There was no answering smile from her as she coolly examined his symmetrical features and perfect physical proportions through the folds of the net.
No, there could be no longer any doubt in her mind that this young man was what the New Race University required for breeding purposes.
No such specimen as this could hope to escape instant marriage. Here were features so mathematically flawless that they became practically featureless; here was bodily balance so ideal that the ultimate standards of Greek perfection seemed lop-sided in comparison. No, there could be no doubt about it; this young man was certainly required for the purpose of scientific propagation; willy-nilly he was destined to be one of the ancestors of that future and god-like race which must, one day, people the earth to replace the bigoted and degenerate population which at present encumbered it.
She regarded him without the slightest personal interest now. His symmetry wearied her profoundly.
"When are you going to let me out?" he asked cheerfully.
She looked at him almost insolently under slightly lifted brows.
"Presently," she said; and began to fumble in her satchel. In a few moments she produced two bottles, a roll of antiseptic cotton, and a hypodermic needle.