“Because I love you,” said Balthasar.
“Tell me,” Balkis asked, “is the water good in the wells of your capital?”
“Yes,” Balthasar replied in some surprise.
“I am also curious to know,” Balkis continued, “how a dry conserve of fruit is made in Ethiopia?”
The king did not know what to answer.
“Now please tell me, please,” she urged.
Whereupon with a mighty effort of memory he tried to describe how Ethiopian cooks preserve quinces in honey. But she did not listen. And suddenly, she interrupted him.
“My lord, it is said that you love your neighbour, Queen Candace. Is she more beautiful than I am? Do not deceive me.”
“More beautiful than you, madam,” Balthasar cried as he fell at the feet of Balkis, “how could that possibly be!”
“Well, then, her eyes? her mouth, her colour? her throat?” the queen continued.