you know what 'angry' means? Are you
not angry with us for destroying your air-ships up there in the clouds,
and the one that came down, and for shooting all those people of yours?"

The Martian looked at her with a little light in his big blue eyes, and
two faint little spots of red just under them, and said:

"Anger! Yes, I remember, that is what we called brain-heat. Our teachers
found it to be madness and it was abolished. It was not convenient. The
air-ships were not convenient to you, so you abolished them. The folk,
too, that you abolished with those things," pointing to the guns, "they
were not convenient. If you hadn't done that they would have abolished
you. There is no more to say."

"What brutes," said Zaidie, turning away from him, her head thrown back
and her lips curling in unutterable disgust. "Well, if these people have
civilised themselves along the same lines that we are doing, thinking
the same things and speaking something like the same speech, thank God
we shall be dead before our civilisation reaches a stage like this.
That's not a man. It's only a machine of flesh and bone and nerves, and
I suppose it has blood of some sort."

A beautiful woman always looks most beautiful when she is just a little
angry. Redgrave had never seen Zaidie look quite so lovely as she did
just then. The Martian, whose ancestors had for generations forgotten
what human emotion was like, only saw in her anger a miracle which made
her a thousand times more beautiful than before, and as he looked upon
her glowing cheeks and gleaming eyes some instinct insensibly
transmitted through many generations awoke to sudden life in some unused
corner of his brain.

His pale clear eyes lit up with something like a glow of human passion.
The pink spots under his eyes spread downwards over his cheeks. Some
half-articulate sounds came from between his thin lips. Then they were
drawn back and showed his smooth, toothless gums. He took a couple of
long, swift strides towards her, and then bent forward, towering over
her with long, outstretched arms, huge, hideous, and half-human.

Zaidie sprang backwards as he came towards her, her right hand went up,
and, just as Redgrave levelled his revolver, and Murgatroyd, true to the
old Berserk instinct, took a rifle by the barrel and swung the stock
above his head, Zaidie pulled her trigger. The bullet cut a clean hole
through the smooth, hairless skull of the Martian. A dark, red spot came