“There’s Mars⁠—clear atmosphere, novel surroundings, exhilarating sense of lightness. It might be pleasant to go there.”

“Is there air on Mars?”

“Oh yes!”

“Seems as though you might run it as a sanatorium. By the way, how far is Mars?”

“Two hundred million miles at present,” said Cavor airily; “and you go close by the sun.”

My imagination was picking itself up again. “After all,” I said, “there’s something in these things. There’s travel⁠—”