“No, my friend,” she said, “if I may not have my own body this old one of Xaxa’s is quite as good for me as another. Without my own body I should not care to return to my native country; while were Ras Thavas to give me the beautiful body of another, I should always be in danger of the covetousness of his clients, any one of whom might see and desire to purchase it, leaving to me her old husk, conceivably one quite terribly diseased or maimed. No, my friend, I am satisfied with the body of Xaxa, unless I may again possess my own, for Xaxa at least bequeathed me a tough and healthy envelope, however ugly it may be; and for what do looks count here? You, alone, are my friend—that I have your friendship is enough. You admire me for what I am, not for what I look like, so let us leave well enough alone.” “If you could regain your own body and return to your native country, you would like that?” I demanded. “Oh, do not say it!” she cried. “The simple thought of it drives me mad with longing. I must not harbour so hopeless a dream that at best may only tantalize me into greater abhorrence of my lot.” “Do not say that it is hopeless,” I urged. “Death, only, renders hope futile.” “You mean to be kind,” she said, “but you are only hurting me. There can be no hope.” “May I hope for you, then?” I asked. “For I surely see a way; however slight a possibility for success it may have, still, it is a way.” She shook her head. “There is no way,” she said, with finality. “No more will Duhor know me.” “Duhor?” I repeated. “Your—someone you care for very much?” “I care for Duhor very much,” she answered with a smile, “but Duhor is not someone—Duhor is my home, the country of my ancestors.” “How came you to leave Duhor?” I asked. “You have never told me, Valla Dia.” “It was because of the ruthlessness of Jal Had, Prince of Amhor,” she replied. “Hereditary enemies were Duhor and Amhor; but Jal Had came disguised into the city of Duhor, having heard, they say, of the great beauty attributed to the only daughter of Kor San, Jeddak of Duhor; and when he had seen her he determined to possess her. Returning to Amhor he sent ambassadors to the court of Kor San to sue for the hand of the Princess of Duhor; but Kor San, who had no son, had determined to wed his daughter to one of his own Jeds, that the son of this union, with the blood of Kor San in his veins, might rule over the people of Duhor; and so the offer of Jal Had was declined.