“Probably not. Anyhow Cipriano will enjoy chasing them. He is Zapotec, and most of his men are Zapotecans, from the hills. They love chasing men who aren’t.”
“I wondered why he wasn’t there on Sunday when you carried away the images,” she said. “I think it was an awfully brave thing to do.”
“Do you?” he laughed. “It wasn’t. It’s never half so brave, to carry something off, and destroy it, as to set a new pulse beating.”
“But you have to destroy those old things, first.”
“Those frowsty images—why, yes. But it’s no good until you’ve got something else moving, from the inside.”
“And have you?”
“I think I have. Don’t you?”
“Yes,” she said, a little doubtful.
“I think I have,” he said. “I feel there’s a new thing moving inside me.” He was laughing at her, for her hesitation. “Why don’t you come and join us?” he added.
“How?” she said. “By being married off to Don Cipriano?”