"Bigger?"
"Yes, how much bigger?"
She looked at the little building, twenty cubits broad, sixty cubits long. Twelve paces one way, forty another. For an instant laughter bubbled in her, but gave way to pathos, and her sloe-black eyes were wet again. O poor lad!
"Is it very much bigger than the pyramids, Balkis?" he asked eagerly.
"Oh, lots bigger. Much."
"Why, Balkis, you are crying. Are you lonely?"
"Yes, a little homesick," she lied again.
He came toward her and kissed her, in kindness, but the touch of lips fired, startled them both, sent their blood pounding in the soft Syrian gloom.
"O Balkis!" his voice trembled. "O Balkis!"
"Solomon!" she uttered softly. "Dear Solomon!"