from the foot of the throne of Osiris to dwell amongst the people of Kamt, and as I saw thee I found thee beautiful beyond all sons of men.… Hush! do not speak! It was no sin to find thee fair! I had come to weep in the temple, for Amen-het, whom I had loved, was lost to me for ever."
I had already begun to think that the strange little person who had indulged in this rash swimming feat, in order to make pretty speeches to Hugh, was a little demented within that pretty, dripping head of hers. Her last words suggested to me that perhaps there was some cause for her strange frame of mind. She hid her face in her hands, and the drops, which escaped from between her fingers and trickled down upon her breasts, did not come from the waters of the canal. It was a very pathetic situation, and we did not quite know what to do. Here was a very pretty maiden, who had risked—to say the least—a very severe cold for the sake of speaking to us (or rather to Hugh, for as usual I was but a secondary personage). She was evidently in sad distress, and yet any attempt on our part at consolation by word or deed was promptly and coldly repelled. However, she soon looked up again, as if ashamed of her emotion, and spoke quickly and nervously.
"Wilt thou forgive me? I am weak, and Amen-het was very dear to me. We had loved one another from the days when my mother's foot rocked both our cradles side by side. He was motherless and fatherless, but he knew that I would be all in all to him: mother and sister, and wife and friend. We were happy, for we loved one another. He was a skilful artisan and carved exquisite images in the temples of the gods, and already his fame had spread far and wide, from Men-ne-fer to Se-ven-neh, and thence to Tanis. Then the princess,
