Letari led the way down the village street, her soft arm brushing his. “I should be a good mate,” she said, “for I should love only you, and if, after a while, you did not like me you could send me away for that is one of the customs of Amiocap—that when one of two people ceases to love they shall no longer be mates.”
“But they do not become mates unless they both love,” insisted Tanar.
“That is true,” admitted Letari, “but presently you shall love me. I know that, for all men love me. I could have for my mate any man in Lar that I choose.”
“You do not feel unkindly towards yourself,” said Tanar, with a grin.
“Why should I?” asked Letari. “Am I not beautiful and young?”
Stellara watched Tanar and Letari walking down the village street. She saw how close together they walked and it seemed that Tanar was very much interested in what Letari had to say to him. Doval was standing at her side. She turned to him.
“It is noisy here,” she said. “There are too many people. Walk with me to the end of the village.”
It was the first time that Stellara had ever indicated a desire to be alone with him and Doval felt a strange thrill of elation. “I will walk with you to the end of the village, Stellara, or to the end of Pellucidar, forever, because I love you,” he said.
The girl sighed and shook her head. “Do not talk about love,” she begged. “I merely wish to walk and there is no one else here to walk with me.”
“Why will you not love me?” asked Doval, as they left the house of the chief and entered the main street of the village. “Is it because you love another?”