The prince waved his hand and repeated his question.
"I shall speak with her," Har-hat responded, "and give thee her word."
For a moment the prince contemplated the fan-bearer, then he turned without a word and strode out of the chamber. In a corridor near his own apartments he overtook the daughter of Har-hat. Her woman was with her.
The prince stepped before them.
The attendant crouched and fled somewhere out of sight. Masanath drew herself to the fullest of her few inches and waited for Rameses to speak.
"Come, Masanath," he said, "thou canst reach the limit of thy power to be ungracious and but fix me the firmer in my love for thee. I am come to tell thee that I have won thee from thy father."
"Thou hast not won me from myself," she replied.
"Nay, but I shall."
"Thou dost overestimate thyself," she retorted. Catching up the fan and chaplet that her woman had let fall she made as though to run past him. But he put himself in her way, and with shining eyes, caught her in his arms.
"There, there! my sweet. I shall do thee no hurt," he laughed, quieting her struggles with an iron embrace.