"A word with thee, my Lord," she panted, chiefly from trepidation. "I have come to expect no more than a word from thee," he said. The answer would have sent her away in dudgeon, under any other circumstances, but her pride could not stand in the way of this very pressing duty. "A boon," she said, choking back her resentment. "A boon! Thou wouldst ask a boon of me! Nay, I will not promise, for it may be thou comest to ask thy freedom, and that I will not grant for spleen." Still she curbed herself. "Nay, O Prince; I am come to ask naught of thee which--a wife--may not justly ask of--her--lord." He left the curtain and came close to her. "Had the words come smoothly over thy lips, they would have meant any wife--any husband. But thy very faltering names thee and me. What is the boon that thou mayest justly ask of me?" "My father--." "Hold! There, too, I make a restriction. Already have I suffered thy father sufficiently." Tears leaped into her insulted eyes, and in the bright light, shining from a lamp above her head, her emotion was very apparent. "Thou hast begun well in thy siege of my heart, Rameses," she said. "I am like to love thee, if thou dost woo me with affronts!" "I am as like to win thee with rough words as I am with soft speeches. I had thought thee above pretense, Masanath." "I pretend not," she cried, stamping her foot. "And if thou wouldst know how I esteem thee, I can tell thee most truthfully." He laughed and caught her hands. "Nay, save thy judgment. Thou hast a long life with me before thee, and the minds of women can change in the blink of an eye. Furthermore, I love thee none the less because thou art so untamed. Thou art the world I would subdue. So thou dost not give allegiance to another conqueror, I shall not grieve over thy rebellion. Is there another?" he asked. "I would liefer wed with well-nigh any other man in Egypt than with thee, Rameses," she replied deliberately. The declaration swept him off his feet. "Gods! but thou dost hate me," he cried. Panic possessed her for a moment, remembering Hotep, but it was too late. She returned the prince's gaze without wavering, though her hands shook pitifully. After what seemed to her an interminable time, he spoke again. "Perchance I am unwise in taking thee," he said. "Perchance I but give thee opportunity to spit me on a dagger in my sleep." The tears brimmed over her lashes this time. "Thou dost slander me!" she exclaimed passionately. "Then I do not understand thee, Masanath," he asserted.