Isar began to wonder if it would be such a terrible thing if he succumbed to Deva’s plea. After all, it might save the community from a great deal of grief. But here he stopped himself. He knew that if he made love to her it would be because he desired her and not for the good of the community. He knew also that it would bring no benefit, but only loss, to those he truly loved.
He began to look as tormented as his wife. He avoided Deva and shut himself up in his workshed, working morosely on his carving and finding that not one piece came out as well as he had hoped. ‘Why bother,’ he thought irritably one day. ‘Why do I take all this trouble when I could get Deva to manifest in an instant something better than I could carve in a week!’ All the satisfaction had gone out of the creative act
