“When was I a jester? You have had ills before, childish ills; if I did not mock them, am I likely to laugh at your woman’s troubles?”
“But this is something you cannot help.”
“The gods can.”
“A god is the trouble. I saw him, and love him better than any our father worships.”
Bold confirmation that of the elder sister’s fears. “You saw him?” she asked, musingly.
“And know him by name. Tonatiah, Tonatiah: is it not pretty?”
“Are you not afraid?”
“Of what? Him? Yes, but he is so handsome! You saw him also. Did you not notice his white forehead, and the brightness of his blue eyes, the sunshine of his face? As against him, ah, Tula! what are the lords you would have me love?”
“He is our father’s enemy.”
“His guest; he came by invitation.”