"Good," he answered. "Queen Neter-Tua, I, your subject, dare to love
you."

"What of that, Rames? I have millions of subjects who all profess to
love me."

He waved his hand angrily, and went on:

"I dare to love you as a man loves a woman, not as a subject loves a
queen."

"Ah!" she answered in a new and broken voice, "that is different, is it
not? Well, all women love to be loved, though some are queens and some
are peasants, so why should I be angry? Rames, now, as in past days, I
thank you for your love."

"It is not enough," he said. "What is the use of giving love? Love
should be lent. Love is an usurer that asks high interest. Nay, not the
interest only, but the capital and the interest to boot. Oh, Star! what
happens to the man who is so mad as to love the Queen of Egypt?"

Tua considered this problem as though it were a riddle to which she was
seeking an answer.

"Who knows?" she replied at length in a low voice. "Perhaps it costs
him his life, or perhaps--perhaps he marries her and becomes Pharaoh of
Egypt. Much might depend on whether the queen chanced to care about such
a man."

Now Rames shook like a reed in the evening wind, and he looked at her