(Goes closer.) Your eyes seem strange to me to-night: they look far away into space. Your voice sounds distant like the desert jackal’s cry. (She puts a hand on his and looks searchingly into his eyes.) Yet you call me Little Child, as of old, when we met here every evening in the dusk … to play and talk and dream together … of the future. Menophis (taking his other hand and drawing her body closer to him), will you not tell me—your Little Child—this sacred night when the Tear of Isis bids our river rise—tell me what wonderful new dream has crept into this faithful heart? (Lowers her head as though to hear its beating.) I hear another music in your blood. (Lifts her face to his.) And it is … beautiful. (Waits for his reply.)
Menophis
It is the Sacred Night. That means—Had you forgotten?
Nefertiti
(Alarmed, but half teasing.) Oh, you Solemnity! Forgotten what?
Menophis
(Gravely.) A choice—a decision—made to-night is made for ever.
Nefertiti
(Low.) I know.