"But why am I like this? How can I have a baby this way?" Dora's voice was shrill with anger and panic.
"How else?" Jack asked calmly.
A little chill of horror raced down Helen's spine. Could these odd girls really be telling the truth? Were they from Venus, as they insisted? She could just imagine them coming to Earth—on a Flying Saucer, maybe—listening to the radio to learn the language. Spying on us, but not learning as much as they thought they did. She choked off a giggle, an incipient hysteria, as another thought struck her.
"Will I have one of those—those—?"
"You already have baby," Patricia said. "Can't see how you have baby before we come with faneweed to make you green."
Helen and Dora stared at her.
"You mean," Helen finally was able to ask, "that that weed caused all this? That little weed?"
"But that is what we tell you all along, only you always walk away angry."
All those scientists working so hard, Helen realized bitterly, and all the time what they were looking for was literally under their feet! How could anyone have thought that the faneweed was responsible for anything but the bad smell they had finally become accustomed to?