"Except you, mistress," answered the old woman, placing to her lips one of the young woman's hands.
"I know it. You are devoted to me."
"I never had any children, and sometimes I fancy that I am your mother."
"Good Thamar," said Ra'hel, moved.
"Was I wrong," continued Thamar, "to consider her appearance so strange? Her disappearance explains it. She said she was Tahoser, the daughter of Petamounoph. She was nothing but a fiend which took that form to seduce and tempt a child of Israel. Did you see how troubled she was when Poëri spoke against the idols of wood, stone, and metal, and how difficult it was for her to say, 'I will try to believe in your God'? It seemed as though the words burnt her lips like hot coals."
"The tears which fell upon my breast were genuine tears,—a woman's tears," said Ra'hel.
"Crocodiles weep when they want, and hyenas laugh to attract their prey," continued the old woman. "The evil spirits which prowl at night in the stones and ruins know many a trick and play every part."
"So, according to you, poor Tahoser was nothing but a phantom raised up by hell?"
"Unquestionably," replied Thamar. "Is it likely that the daughter of the priest Petamounoph would have fallen in love with Poëri and preferred him to the Pharaoh, who, it is said, loves her?"
Ra'hel, who did not admit that any one in the world was superior to Poëri, did not think this unlikely.