Most women, you raise your voice, and they go bulge-eyed or ice, and next thing you know, you’re arguing about you being angry, never mind what put the ember down your back in the first place. Swallow your tongue with a Saldaean, though, and to her, you’re saying she isn’t strong enough to stand up to you. Insult her like that, and you’re lucky she doesn’t feed you your own gizzard for breakfast. She’s no Far Madding wench, to expect a man to sit where she points and jump when she snaps her fingers. She’s a leopard, and she expects her husband to be a leopard, too.
