
He'd gone and said, Look, now everything was settled down more, it wastime they got married like the Store nomes did, with the Abbot mutteringwords and everything.
And she'd said she wasn't sure.
So he'd said, It doesn't work like that, you get told, you get married, that's how it's done.
And she'd said. Not anymore.
He'd complained to Granny Morkie. You'd have expected some support there, he thought. She was a great one for tradition, was Granny. He'd said, Granny, Grimma isn't doing what I tell her.
And she'd said, Good luck to her, wish I'd thought of not doin' what Iwas told when I was a gel.
Then he'd complained to Gurder, who said, Yes, it was very wrong, girlsshould do what they were instructed. And Masklin had said, Right then, you tell her. And Gurder had said, Well, er, she's got a real temper onher, perhaps it would be better to leave it a bit and these were, afterall, changing times... .
Changing times. Well, that was true enough. Masklin had done most of thechanging. He'd had to make people think in different ways to leave theStore. Changing was necessary. Change was right. He was all in favor ofchange.
What he was dead against was things not staying the same.
His spear was leaning in the corner. What a pathetic thing it was ...
now. Just a bit of flint held onto the shaft with a twist of binder twine. They'd brought saws and things from the Store. They could usemetal these days.
He stared at the spear for some time. Then he picked it up and went outfor a long, serious think about things and his position in them. Or, asother people would have put it, a good sulk.
The old quarry was about halfway up the hillside. There was a steepturf slope above it, which in turn became a riot of bramble and hawthornthicket. There were fields beyond.
Below the quarry a dirt road wound down through scrubby hedges and joinedthe main highway. Beyond that there was the railroad, another name fortwo long lines of metal on big wooden blocks. Things like very longtrucks went along it sometimes, all joined together.
