ifferent. As for motherhood
They still take an immense pride in the children. They come here to look
at them quite often."

"Then do you mean that the population of the world--?"

"Is falling? Yes. Except among the people under the Labour Company. They
are reckless--."

The air was suddenly dancing with music, and down a way they approached
obliquely, set with gorgeous pillars as it seemed of clear amethyst,
flowed a concourse of gay people and a tumult of merry cries and
laughter. He saw curled heads, wreathed brows, and a happy intricate
flutter of gamboge pass triumphant across the picture.

"You will see," said Asano with a faint smile "The world has changed.
In a moment you will see the mothers of the new age. Come this way. We
shall see those yonder again very soon."

They ascended a certain height in a swift lift, and changed to a slower
one. As they went on the music grew upon them, until it was near and
full and splendid, and, moving with its glorious intricacies they could
distinguish the beat of innumerable dancing feet. They made a payment
at a turnstile, and emerged upon the wide gallery that overlooked the
dancing place, and upon the full enchantment of sound and sight.

"Here," said Asano, "are the fathers and mothers of the little ones you
saw."

The hall was not so richly decorated as that of the Atlas, but saving
that, it was, for its size, the most splendid Graham had seen. The
beautiful white limbed figures that supported the galleries reminded
him once more of the restored magnificence of sculpture; they seemed
to writhe in engaging attitudes, their faces laughed. The source of the
music that filled the place was hidden, and the whole vast shining floor
was thick with dancing couples. "Look at them," said the little officer,
"see how much they show of motherhood."

The gallery they stood upon ran along the upper edge of a huge screen
that cut the dancing hall on one side from a sort of outer hall that
showed through broad arches the incessant onward rush of the city ways.
In this outer hall was a great crowd of less brilliantly dressed people,
as numerous almost as those who danced within, the great majority
wearing the blue uniform of the Labour Company that was now so familiar
to Graham. Too poor to pass the turnstiles to the festival, they were
yet unable to keep away from the sound of its seductions. Some of them
even had cleared spaces, and were dancing also, fluttering their rags in