But the little girl clung to his arms and leaned against him with a sob.
"O Kenkenes," she whispered, "he came but to drag me away to look upon her!"
"Didst go?" he asked.
"Nay," she answered fiercely.
After a silence Kenkenes spoke again:
"He does not love her, Io. Believe me. I doubt not the sorceress hath bewitched him, but he would not rush after a whilom sweetheart to have her look upon a new one. Rather would he strive to cover up his faithlessness. But he hath been untrue to thee in this—that he shares a thought with the witch when his whole mind should be full of thee. Bide thy time till he emerges from the spell, then make him writhe. Meantime, save thy tears. Never was a man worth one of them."
He kissed her again and set her inside Senci's house.
But one remained now of the procession he had escorted from the river. This was the Lady Ta-meri's litter, and his own chariot stood ahead of it. She had lifted the curtains and was piling the opposite seat with cushions in a manner unmistakably inviting. He hesitated a moment. Should he dismiss his charioteer and journey to the nomarch's mansion in the companionable luxury of the litter? But even while he debated with himself, he passed her with a soft word and stepped into his chariot.
[1] The inundation, more properly Nilus—the river-god.