"Here, my dears," he said, unfolding an enormous document with a silver seal. "Here, my dears, is the license! There are only a few minor details to be filled out."
I do not know why, but some strange, irrational hope flashed into my heart at sight of that document.
Yet as I glanced over the paper, I saw very little to inspire hope. I read that, as my one and only legal wife, I guaranteed to take, Loa, the daughter of Professor Tan Trum; that I agreed to obey the Population Laws and produce as many sons as possible for the benefit of the Fatherland; and that I promised to rear my children and conduct my own married life according to the best accepted principles of Thoughtlessness. At the bottom of the page, I noticed, there was a space for a notary's signature, which had not yet been filled out; and under Loa's name I read, written elaborately in gilded letters, "Eugenically approved!"; while beneath my own name no such inscription appeared.
As delicately as I could, I called this fact to the attention of Professor Tan Trum. But he, as if bent on destroying my last remaining shred of hope, answered me.
"Oh, my dear boy, don't let that worry you! Don't let that worry you at all! A mere formality, I assure you! A fine, stalwart man like you—even if you were born a barbarian—won't have any trouble meeting eugenic requirements. Not the least. In fact, I'm determined to clear away this last technical obstacle at once. So I've a little surprise for you. I've brought the Eugenics Inspector here with us. He's waiting right now in the gallery!"
While I gave a horrified gasp, the Professor went to the door, flung it open, and called to someone outside. And immediately a rat-faced little runt of a native, whose tall pointed hat bore an engraved steel sign, "Eugenics!" entered and bowed low. "Is this the bridegroom?" he inquired, pointing at me.
"Yes, yes," acknowledged the Professor. "Come right this way! My daughter and I will withdraw, leaving you to perform the tests by yourself. We will be waiting outside."
Since there was no choice in the matter, I had to agree to the ordeal. And the Inspector, who declared himself to be a practicing physician, put me through a severe examination, in which he tested my heart, my lungs, and all my other organs by means of a wonderful little instrument which, upon being placed on the skin, immediately registered any pathological condition, by recording the exceedingly faint electrical reactions of the body.
But alas!—he could find nothing wrong with me! "My dear young man," he congratulated me at the conclusion of the test, "you bewilder me! It is rarely that I have come across so perfect a case! I will rate you 99 and 44/100 per cent! From the point of view of Eugenics, you are Grade A!"
Probably the Inspector did not understand why I looked so downcast at this pronouncement, and why I begged, almost forlornly, "But is there no other test? You're sure you can't disqualify me?"