"She was not my mate."
"Not your mate!" Nalte's tone expressed her surprise. "But you loved
one another?"
"Duare did not love me," I replied. "At least she said she didn't. You
see, she was the daughter of a jong and she couldn't love any one until
after she was twenty."
Nalte laughed. "Love does not come or go in accordance with any laws or
customs," she said.
"But even if Duare had loved me, which she didn't, she couldn't have
said so; she couldn't even talk of love because she was the daughter
of a jong and too young. I don't understand it, of course, but that is
because I am from another world and know nothing of your customs."
"I am nineteen," said Nalte, "and the daughter of a jong, but if I
loved a man I should say so."
"Perhaps the customs of your country and those of Duare's are not the
same," I suggested.
"They must be very different," agreed Nalte, "for in my country a man
does not speak to a girl of love until she has told him that she loves
him; and the daughter of the jong chooses her own mate whenever she
pleases."
"That custom may have its advantages," I admitted, "but if I loved a
girl I should want the right to tell her so."
"Oh, the men find ways of letting a girl know without putting it into
words. I could tell if a man loved me, but if I loved him very much I
wouldn't wait for that."
"And what if he didn't love you?" I asked.