Once out of the armor the visitors felt much more at ease.  The slightly reduced gravitation gave them a sense of lightness and freedom which more than balanced the junglelike oppressiveness of the air.  They found themselves guarding against a certain exuberance; perhaps it was the extra oxygen, too.

They strode toward the large structure directly ahead.  At its entrance—­ a wide, square portal which opened into a fan-shaped lobby—­Estra paused and smiled apologetically—­as he mopped his forehead and upper lip with a paper handkerchief, which he immediately dropped into a small, trap-covered opening in the wall at his side.

These little doors, by the way, were to be seen at frequent intervals wherever they went.  Incidentally not a scrap of paper or other refuse was to be noted anywhere—­streets and all were spotless.

As for Estra—­“I am not accustomed to moving at such speed,” he explained his discomfort.  “If you do not mind, please walk a little more leisurely.”

They took their time about passing through this lobby.  For one thing, Estra said there would have to be a small delay; and for another, the walls and ceilings of the space were most remarkably ornamented.  They were fairly covered with what appeared, at first glance, to be absolutely lifelike paintings and sculptures.  They were so arranged as to strengthen the structural lines of the place, and, of course, they were of more interest to Billie than to the others. [Footnote:  The specialist in architecture and related subjects is referred to E. Williams Jackson’s report to the A.I.A., for details of these basrelief photographs.]

Desiring to examine some of the work far overhead, Billie clambered up on a convenient pedestal in order to look more closely.  She took the strength of things for granted, and put her weight too heavily on a molding on the edge of the pedestal; with the result that there was a sharp crack; and the girl struck the floor in a heap.  She got to her feet before Van Emmon could reach her side, but her face was white with pain.

“Sprained—­ankle,” said she between set lips, and proceeded to stump up and down the lobby, “to limber up,” as she said, although her three companions offered to do anything that might relieve her.

To the surprise of all, Estra leaned against a pillar and watched the whole affair with perfect composure.  He made no offer of help, said nothing whatever in sympathy.  In a moment he noticed the looks they gave him—­their stares.

“I must beg your pardon,” he said, still smiling.  “I am sorry this happened; it will not be easy to explain.

“But you will find all Venusians very unsympathetic.  Not that we are hard hearted, but because we simply lost the power of sympathy.

“We do not know what pity is.  We have eliminated everything that is disagreeable, all that is painful, from our lives to such an extent that there is never any cause for pity.”