“What do you say?”
He looked up. She could see that he had not caught her words and she was glad.
“There must be a struggle, no doubt,” she said.
“Of course there must. There is. In the old days, they were not allowed to come together and now they are not allowed to stay together.”
She said nothing, but let her hand glide over the jar.
“All these faithless wives have lowered love. I could imagine a woman of refinement stifling her love, because she would not give it scope.”
“Because she was afraid.”
“Because she was refined.”
They sat silent for a time and looked at the live embers in the white ashes.
“Do you think there are many who do that?”