MADAM POTIPHAR. I thought for a moment it might be the same one. But
this Joseph is an ill-favoured creature--and insolent. . . . What
colour was his hair?

ASENATH. I really don't remember. It's been a year since he was
there.... You have a _lovely_ house, my dear. I'm _so_ glad I
came to see you!

MADAM POTIPHAR. (_also willing to change the subject_) It's nice
to see you again, dear Asenath. We haven't seen each other since we
were little girls. Do you remember how we played together in the
date-orchard? And the long, long talks we had?

ASENATH. Don't let's be sentimental about our childhood!
MADAM POTIPHAR. Do you remember how we talked about being married?
(_Asenath goes to the little window_.) We hated all men, as I
remember.

ASENATH. I was eight years old then. . . . Who is that handsome young
man I see out there?

MADAM POTIPHAR. In the garden?

ASENATH. Yes.

_Madam Potiphar comes to the window_.

MADAM POTIPHAR. That--that is the slave we were speaking of. . . .