Then, suddenly, from the farther end of the sacred edifice, there where the great gateway faced directly towards the east, it seemed to me that a dull yet rosy light began to creep gently through.
“Neit-akrit,” said Hugh, after a long while, “if thou didst wish to give me that posy as an emblem of happiness, it was wrong to add remembrance to it.”
“Why?”
“Because since I have smelt that sprig of rosemary my memory has come back to me. Remembrance, like duty, is at times cold and cruel, and her figure now stands beside that gate and points towards the east.”
“Nay, not yet!” she pleaded; “ ’tis but the lights of the city of Tanis gone crazy with joy.”
“Remembrance whispers, Neit-akrit, that I have plighted my troth, and that if I stay beside thee and chase remembrance away, I break the pledge which I gave to another.”
“Nay! the heralds of dawn have not yet sounded the trumpets. Osiris is still well hidden behind the hills, and my nosegay is not ready. I have no tuberose, which means passion, and no white pansy, which means forgetfulness.”
“It is not in thy power, Neit-akrit, to put white pansy into thy bunch, and I…”
“And thou?”
“I would not put them there if I could.”