There were times when the fighting seemed endless; that for John Carter and me there would never be peace. Worse, it seemed that often I was the prize in a seemingly endless game of keep-away. At my beloved father's bidding, I would go forth on some peaceful adventure only to be seized and carried off, away from my erstwhile defenders. My husband told me of Earthian ceremonies called "melodramas" in which such things happened endlessly. I was ever the endangered heroine in our Barsoomian melodramas. My fellow Barsoomians seemed never to understand what we were doing to ourselves. I began to see it as a degeneracy forced upon us by the rigors of our dying world.