Ramiki laughed fiercely. “He told me why it was that women go or stay only as men say it!”
“Why is it, Ramiki?”
Ramiki looked at her, and now there was trader’s cunning mixed with the prophet strain. “Arzan has not yet given me the right words!—It may be four or five days before I sing to the people.”
“Four or five days,” thought Halmis, but she thought it to herself. She nursed her knees and looked at the bowing reeds.
“In all ways,” said Ramiki fiercely, “men are stronger than women!”
“Ha!” said Halmis. “The fountains of milk! The beings that he draws from himself!”
“Four things are tabu for women! Noble hunting, noble warring, noble owning, noble choosing!”
“O great man who is noble throughout! Cold does not chill him! Wet does not wet him! Thirst does not parch him, and those he binds are not shaped like him!”
“Arzan wither your tongue!” said Ramiki.
The sun carried its torch underground. The plain darkened, the wind sighed in the reeds. “Why do we quarrel so?” asked Halmis. “Now, I like Ramiki, and Ramiki likes me. And then I would kill Ramiki, and he me. And then I like Ramiki again, and am sorry.... Ramiki!”