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Terry put in practice his pet conviction that a woman loves to be mastered, and by sheer brute force, in all the pride and passion of his intense masculinity, he tried to master this woman. It did not work. I got a pretty clear account of it later from Ellador, but what we heard at the time was the noise of a tremendous struggle, and Alima calling to Moadine.
But when we began to talk about each couple having "homes" of our own, they could not understand it. "Our work takes us all around the country," explained Celis. "We cannot live in one place all the time." "We are together now," urged Alima, looking proudly at Terry's stalwart nearness. "It's not the same thing at all," he insisted. "A man wants a home of his own, with his wife and family in it."
Even Alima who had a more stormy temperament than either of the others, and who, heaven knows, had far more provocation even Alima was patience and tenderness and wisdom personified to the man she loved, until he but I haven't got to that yet. These, as Terry put it, "alleged or so-called wives" of ours, went right on with their profession as foresters.
"Then she just loses hers and takes a new one how unpleasant! We won't do that!" Alima said decidedly. Terry was good-humored about it. "I don't care what you do or don't do so long as we have that wedding pretty soon," he said, reaching a strong brown hand after Alima's, quite as brown and nearly as strong.
He was madly in love with Alima, really; more so than he had ever been before, and their tempestuous courtship, quarrels, and reconciliations had fanned the flame.
"Morbid one-sided cripples," he called them, even when from his window he could see their splendid vigor and beauty; even while Moadine, as patient and friendly as if she had never helped Alima to hold and bind him, sat there in the room, the picture of wisdom and serene strength. "Sexless, epicene, undeveloped neuters!" he went on bitterly. He sounded like Sir Almwroth Wright. Well it was hard.
Again they laughed delightedly, and the one nearest me followed his tactics. "Celis," she said distinctly, pointing to the one in blue; "Alima" the one in rose; then, with a vivid imitation of Terry's impressive manner, she laid a firm delicate hand on her gold-green jerkin "Ellador." This was pleasant, but we got no nearer. "We can't sit here and learn the language," Terry protested.
Terry was always restive under their talk of fatherhood. "Anybody'd think we were High Priests of of Philoprogenitiveness!" he protested. "These women think of NOTHING but children, seems to me! We'll teach 'em!" He was so certain of what he was going to teach, and Alima so uncertain in her moods of reception, that Jeff and I feared the worst. We tried to caution him much good that did.
But I think Alima retained some faint vestige of long-descended feeling which made Terry more possible to her than to others; and that she had made up her mind to the experiment and hated to renounce it.
When he swung a chair over his head one sprang in the air and caught it, two threw themselves bodily upon him and forced him to the floor; it was only the work of a few moments to have him tied hand and foot, and then, in sheer pity for his futile rage, to anesthetize him. Alima was in a cold fury. She wanted him killed actually.
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