Gura shrugged indifferently. “It is nothing,” she said. “Her mate returned unexpectedly. That is all.”
“You mean,” asked Tanar, “that this fellow is her mate and that the other was not?”
“Certainly,” said Gura, “but they all do it. What can you expect where there is nothing but hate,” and walking to the entrance to her father’s cave she set the water vessel down within the shadows just inside the entrance. Then she sat down and leaned her back against the cliff, paying no more attention to the matrimonial difficulties of her neighbor.
Tanar, for the first time, noticed the girl particularly. He saw that she had neither the cunning expression that characterized Jude and all of the other Himeans he had seen; nor were there the lines of habitual irritation and malice upon her face; instead it reflected an innate sadness and he guessed that she looked much like her mother might have when she was Gura’s age.
Tanar crossed the ledge and sat down beside her. “Do your people always quarrel thus?” he asked.
“Always,” replied Gura.
“Why?” he asked.
“I do not know,” she replied. “They take their mates for life and are permitted but one and though both men and women have a choice in the selection of their mates they never seem to be satisfied with one another and are always quarreling, usually because neither one nor the other is faithful. Do the men and women quarrel thus in the land from which you come?”
“No,” replied Tanar. “They do not. If they did they would be thrown out of the tribe.”
“But suppose that they find that they do not like one another?” insisted the girl.