When I was wandering in the town one day towards sunset, I met her walking with her uncle Jabez upon one side and her lover, Laban, on the other, like a prisoner between two guards.

I thought she looked unhappy, but her foot seemed to be well again; at least she moved without limping.
I stopped to salute her, but Laban scowled and hurried her away.

Jabez stayed behind and fell into talk with me.

He told me that she was recovered of her hurt, but that there had been trouble between her and Laban because of all that happened on that evening when she came by it, ending in his encounter with the captain.
"This young man seems to be of a jealous nature," I said, "one who will make a harsh husband for any woman." "Yes, learned scribe, jealousy has been his curse from youth as it is with so many of our people, and I thank God that I am not the woman whom he is to marry." "Why, then, do you suffer her to marry him, Jabez ?" "Because her father affianced her to this lion's whelp when she was scarce more than a child, and among us that is a bond hard to break.
For my own part," he added, dropping his voice, and glancing round with shifting eyes, "I should like to see my niece in some different place to that of the wife of Laban.

With her great beauty and wit, she might become anything--anything if she had opportunity.