We sat in a little arbor beside the house, with its breakfast table
already laid. Dr. Gryce, Brett, and myself. Martt was with Frannie
preparing the meal. It was evidence of the simplicity which marked
the Gryce household. In these days of mechanical devices for almost
everything--and the usual multiplicity of servants--there was not a
meal prepared for Dr. Gryce save by his daughter.
I was very curious to learn why they had sent for me; but I had no need
to question, for at once Dr. Gryce plunged into it.
"I hope, Frank, that you can stay--well, at least a few days with us.
Can you?"
I stared. The Day Officer of the Manhattan Interplanetary Postal
Division was undoubtedly already in a rage at my absence. I said so.
"A few days? Dr. Gryce, I dread every conjunction that brings these
accursed mails--my divisional officers think it's a crime even to eat
or sleep when a planet is near us."