a mile each way.

The two sides of the avenue were busy with cars like their own, some
carrying six people, and others only the driver. Those on each side of
the road all went in the same direction. Those nearest to the broad
side-walks between the houses and the first row of trees went at a
moderate speed of five or six miles an hour, but along the inner sides,
near the central line of trees, they seemed to be running as high as
thirty miles an hour. Their occupants were nearly all dressed in clothes
made of the same glistening, silky fabric as their host wore, but the
colourings were of infinite variety.

It was quite easy to distinguish between the sexes, although in stature
they were almost equal. The men were nearly all clothed as their host
was. The colours of their garments were quieter, and there was little
attempt at personal adornment, though many wore bands of an intensely
bright, sky-blue metal round their arms above the elbow, and others wore
belts and necklaces of links composed of this and two other metals
resembling gold and aluminum, but of an exceedingly high lustre.

The women were dressed in flowing garments something after the Greek
style, but they were of brighter hues and much more lavishly embroidered
than the men's tunics were. They also wore much more jewellery. Indeed,
some of the younger ones glittered from head to foot with polished metal
and gleaming stones. There was one more difference which they quickly
noticed. The men's hair, like their host's, was nearly always wavy, but
that of the women, especially the younger, was a mass of either natural
or artificial curls, short and crisp about the head, and flowing down in
glistening ringlets to their waists.

"Could any one ever have dreamt of such a lovely place?" said Zaidie,
after their wondering eyes had become accustomed to the marvels about
them, "and yet--oh dear, now I know what it reminds me of! Flammarion's
book, 'The End of the World,' where he describes the remnants of the
human race dying of cold and hunger on the Equator in places something
like this. I suppose the life of poor Ganymede is giving out, and that's
why they've got to live in magnified exposition buildings, poor things!"

"Poor things!" laughed Redgrave. "I'm afraid I can't agree with you
there, dear. I never saw a jollier-looking lot of people in my life. I
daresay you're quite right, but they certainly seem to view their
approaching end with considerable equani