"She turned greyish-white all over, just like an autumn fly covered with mildew, and a smell of corruption came from her before she died. And the day before yesterday someone had attacked a little girl of five by the very walls of Aton's temple, strangled her and thrown the body to the pigs. Is that well? And Enra lives as though none of these things happened. Perhaps all is well for God, but Enra is not God; people say he is, but he himself knows he isn't."
She pondered for a while and began again:
"He does not know how to cry, but one cannot live without tears; nothing is sweeter than tears..."
"Does Shiha say that?" Maki asked.
"No, I say it .... or perhaps Shiha, I don't remember.... What is Aton, the Sun? A spark in darkness: death will blow and the sun will be extinguished. Darkness is more than light; first there was darkness and then light. Maybe God dwells in darkness."
She laughed suddenly.
"You, too, are a sensible girl; you are afraid of light and love darkness. The daughter does not take after the father."
Maki listened greedily; sometimes she strove to say something, but words froze on her lips; she merely looked at her sister with wide open eyes and seemed like one bound hand and foot waiting for a blow.
"Well, that's enough moping, let us go! You must walk about, it is good for you," Rita said, lifting her with apparent roughness, but in reality with tender care, and led her into the garden.
It was dusk. The sky was clear, but mist was creeping over the ground. The water in the river had only just returned to its normal level; there were still pools of water about. Drops fell from the wet leaves. Frogs croaked ecstatically. The smell of the flowers was intoxicating. All at once the mist turned rosy from the moon that was rising invisibly.