“Solomon had a thousand. He was a man of God, though never in his life was there a moment when he took to his breast a mate. I shall fare better.”
“Did you talk to them all like this?”
“Ask them. They have their little circles beyond which they cannot go. Have you thoughts in common with your cousin Roxy?”
“Yes, very many,” asserted Emeline, doggedly. “I am just like Cousin Roxy.”
“You have no mind beyond the milking and churning, the sewing and weaving?”
“No, I have no mind beyond them.”
“I kiss your hands—these little hands that were made to the finest uses of life, and that I shall fill with honors.”
“Don't touch me,” warned Emeline. “They can scratch!”
The King of Beaver laughed aloud. With continued gentleness he explained to her: “You will come to me. Gentile brutes may chase women like savages, and maltreat them afterwards; but it is different with you and me.” He brought his hands forward and folded them upright on his breast.