"O Ma[6]," the lady cried, threatening him with her fan. "Thou
Defender of Truth, smite him!"

Kenkenes laughed with delight.

"Nay, nay, Nechutes!" he cried. "Thou dost betray thyself. Never
would Ta-meri have said anything so bald. Now, when she is moved to
give me a honeyed fact, she laps it with delicate intimation, layer on
layer like a lotus-bud. And only under the warm interpretation of my
heart will it unfold and show the gold within."

Nechutes stifled a derisive groan, but the lady's color swept up over
her face and made it like the dawn.

"Nay, now," she protested, "wherein art thou better than Nechutes, save
in the manner of telling thy calumny? But, Kenkenes," she broke off,
"thou art wasted in thy narrow realm. They need thy gallant tongue at
court."

The young sculptor made soft eyes at her.

"If I were a courtier," he objected, "I must scatter my small eloquence
among many beauties that I would liefer save for one."

She appropriated the compliment at once.

"Thou dost not hunger after even that opportunity," she pouted. "How
long hath it been since the halls of my father's house knew thy steps?
A whole moon!"