That roused her. Silent! yea! silent for too long.
She rose suddenly and stood before him, tall and straight in the circle of light. Then her voice came clear without a tremble.
"There are too few of us in the house, husband. We must have more. We must have young hands when ours are old."
He stood up in his turn stretching his hands towards her.
"Uma! say not so," he faltered, "I want no more."
She shook her head.
"The fields want them; and even thou----" Then her calm broke, dissolved, disappeared, like a child's sand barrier before the tide. She flung her arms skyward and her voice came like a cry.
"Ask her--ask thy sister--let her do all. I cannot. And she--she must come from afar, Shivo, from far! Not from here--lest Mai Râdha----"
She broke off, turned and flung herself face down in the corn silently, clutching at it with her hand.
Shiv-deo stood looking out over the shadowy fields.