"You can blush, and I don't think they can.

Haven't you noticed that, although they have the most exquisite skins and beautiful eyes and hair and all that sort of thing, not a man or woman of them has any colouring?
I suppose that's the result of living for generations in a hothouse." "Very likely," she said; "but has it struck you also that all the girls and women are either beautiful or handsome, and all the men, except the ones that seem to be servants or slaves, are something like Greek gods, or, at least, the sort of men you see on the Greek sculptures ?" "Survival of the fittest, I presume.

These are probably the descendants of the highest races of Ganymede; the people who conceived the idea of prolonging the life of their race and were able to carry it out.

The inferior races would either perish of starvation or become their servants.

That's what will happen on Earth, and there is no reason why it shouldn't have happened here." As he said this the car swung out round a broad curve into the centre of the great square, and a little cry of amazement broke from Zaidie's lips as her glance roamed over the multiplying splendours about her.
In the centre of the square, in the midst of smooth lawns and flower-beds of every conceivable shape and colour, and groves of flowering trees, stood a great domed building, which they approached through an avenue of overarching trees interlaced with flowering creepers.
The car stopped at the foot of a triple flight of stairs of dazzling whiteness which led up to a broad arched doorway.