"Life is pleasant here," said Brett. "Pleasant, and indolent. It does
not make for progress, but it is happiness--and I'm beginning to wonder
if that is not best, after all."
We were sitting in an arcaded passage on the roof of the home where
Brett lived. Crescent archways opened to the roof, where stood banks
of vivid flowers, with a vista of the city beyond. The building seemed
of baked earth, rough like adobe, and of dull orange color. It was a
two-storied, crescent-shaped structure, set upon a wide street-corner
near the edge of the city. The home of Leela's father. I had never
forgotten Leela--the girl Brett and Martt had rescued from the giant on
their first visit here. Brett had fallen in love with her. It was she
whom tonight he was to marry. And this was her father's home--Greedo,
the old musician.
"I have lived here with them six months," Brett said.