“Nor was Billie’s agent, the woman surgeon,” agreed Van Emmon, “even if she did prefer ‘the Devolutionist’ to Powart.  But you’ll have to admit, doc, that the vast majority of the Capellans were incompetents; the rest were exceptions.”

The doctor spoke after a brief pause.  “And—­that’s what is wrong, Van?”

“Yes,” grimly.  “Billie can’t help but rejoice that things turned out the way they did.  She is sure that the workers, now that they’ve been separated from the ruling class, will proceed to make a perfect paradise out of their land.”  He could not repress a certain amount of sarcasm.  “As well expect a bunch of monkeys to build a steam engine!

“Well,” after a little hesitation, “as I said before, doc, I’ve no reason to change my mind.  You may talk all you like about it—­I can’t agree to such ideas.  The only way to get results on that planet is for the upper classes to continue to govern.”

“And this is what you two have—­quarreled about?”

Van Emmon nodded sorrowfully.  He lit another cigar absent-mindedly and cleared his throat twice before going on:  “My fault, I guess.  I’ve been so darned positive about everything I’ve said, I’ve probably caused Billie to sympathize with her friends more solidly than she would otherwise.”

“But just because you’ve championed the autocrats so heartily—­”

“I’m afraid so!” The geologist was plainly relieved to have stated the case in full.  He leaned forward in his eagerness to be understood.  He told the doctor things that were altogether too personal to be included in this account.

Meanwhile, out in the doctor’s study, Smith had made no move whatever to interrogate the geologist’s young wife.  Instead, the engineer simply remained standing after Billie had sat down, and gave her only an occasional hurried glance.  Shortly the silence got on her nerves; and—­ such was her nature, as contrasted with Van Emmon’s—­whereas he had stated causes first, she went straight to effects.

“Well,” explosively, “Van and I have split!”

Smith was seldom surprised at anything.  This time was no exception.  He merely murmured “Sorry” under his breath; and Billie rushed on, her pent-up feelings eager to escape.

“We haven’t mentioned Capellette for weeks, Smith!  We don’t dare!  If we did, there’d be such a rumpus that we—­we’d separate!” Something came up into her throat which had to be choked back before she could go on.  Then—­

“I don’t know why it is, but every time the subject is brought up Van makes me so wild!” She controlled herself with a tremendous effort.  “He blames me, of course, because of what I did to help the Devolutionist.  But I can’t be blamed for sympathizing with the under dog, can I?  I’ve always preferred justice to policy, any time.  Justice first, I say!  And I think we’ve seen—­there on Capellette—­how utterly impossible it is for any such system as theirs to last indefinitely.”