Graham was still not clear upon many points.  “But so many orphans,” he said perplexed, reverting to a first misconception, and learnt again that they were not orphans.

So soon as they had left the creche he began to speak of the horror the babies in their incubating cases had caused him.  “Is motherhood gone?” he said.  “Was it a cant?  Surely it was an instinct.  This seems so unnatural—­abominable almost.”

“Along here we shall come to the dancing place,” said Asano by way of reply.  “It is sure to be crowded.  In spite of all the political unrest it will be crowded.  The women take no great interest in politics—­except a few here and there.  You will see the mothers—­most young women in London are mothers.  In that class it is considered a creditable thing to have one child—­a proof of animation.  Few middle class people have more than one.  With the Labour Department it is different.  As for motherhood!  They still take an immense pride in the children.  They come here to look at them quite often.”

“Then do you mean that the population of the World—?”

“Is falling?  Yes.  Except among the people under the Labour Department.  In spite of scientific discipline they are reckless—­”

The air was suddenly dancing with music, and down a way they approached obliquely, set with gorgeous pillars as it seemed of clear amethyst, flowed a concourse of gay people and a tumult of merry cries and laughter.  He saw curled heads, wreathed brows, and a happy intricate flutter of gamboge pass triumphant across the picture.

“You will see,” said Asano with a faint smile.  “The world has changed.  In a moment you will see the mothers of the new age.  Come this way.  We shall see those yonder again very soon.”

They ascended a certain height in a swift lift, and changed to a slower one.  As they went on the music grew upon them, until it was near and full and splendid, and, moving with its glorious intricacies they could distinguish the beat of innumerable dancing feet.  They made a payment at a turnstile, and emerged upon the wide gallery that overlooked the dancing place, and upon the full enchantment of sound and sight.

“Here,” said Asano, “are the fathers and mothers of the little ones you saw.”

The hall was not so richly decorated as that of the Atlas, but saving that, it was, for its size, the most splendid Graham had seen.  The beautiful white-limbed figures that supported the galleries reminded him once more of the restored magnificence of sculpture; they seemed to writhe in engaging attitudes, their faces laughed.  The source of the music that filled the place was hidden, and the whole vast shining floor was thick with dancing couples.  “Look at them,” said the little officer, “see how much they show of motherhood.”