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.
"Nice of her. How long have you loved her?"
"I don't know. A while, anyway." He scratched his head. "I
just noticed after I finished my beer, see. That I loved her, I mean."
"Exactly. And you only just found out that you loved her, even
though you've known her forever and-excuse me-you seem a
discerning gentlemen." Reger winked in a friendly manner.
"Perhaps she's an acquired taste."
"Are you saying she's ugly?" The farmer knotted a huge fist,
product of a hand-plow, and waved it in the tradesman's face. "I
won't have that now. She's the woman I love, and she's the most
beautiful-the loveliest-"
Drunk, then. The tradesman sighed. "Look, just tell me what
you want me to say and I'll say it. There's no need to be angry." He
took a deep pull from his ale; no sense waiting until this lout
spilled it.
Farmer Mort shook his shoulder. "Don't ignore me, and don't
make fun of her. Do you want to fight?"
Reger put his tankard down, and the light in his eyes was
strange and bright. "I wouldn't make fun of the most beautiful
woman in the world."
The farmer squinted piggily at him. "You said you didn't love
her."
"I lied." Reger added earnestly, "I do, you know." He took
another drink.
"Here now!" The farmer shook him again. "Don't you do it to
me." He repeated, "Do you want to fight?"
Reger set down the empty tankard and beamed at the aubum-
haired Elga. There was a high buzzing in his ears
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