"It makes me quarrel at the Hathors. The most of us deserve the ills that overtake us. But he—alas—none but the good could sing as he sang!"
The cup-bearer dropped his indifference immediately.
"Ha! Whom dost thou mean?" he demanded.
"Oh!" the princess exclaimed. "Perchance I give thee news."
"If thou meanest Kenkenes, indeed thou dost give us news. What of him?
We know that he is dead. Is there anything further?"
"Of a truth, dost thou not know? Nay, then, far be it from me to tell thee—anything." She passed round them and started to go on. In a few paces, Nechutes overtook her.
"Give us thy meaning, Ta-user," he said earnestly. "Kenkenes was near to me—to Ta-meri. What knowest thou?"
"The court buzzes with it. Strange indeed that ye heard it not. It is said, and of a truth well-nigh proved, that the heart of the singer broke when Ta-meri chose thee, Nechutes, and that—that the disaster which befell him may have been sought."
Nechutes seized her arm, and Ta-meri cried out,
"He sent Ta-meri to me," the cup-bearer said wrathfully. "Thy news is—"