Now my mother is afraid of my husband, and those whom we fear, says my uncle, we cannot love, and we are always ready to believe evil of those we do not love.

So she lends an ear to those people who blame Mena, and say of him that he has driven me out of his heart, and has taken a strange woman to his tent.

But it is false and a lie; and I cannot and will not countenance my own mother even, if she embitters and mars what is left to me--what supports me--the breath and blood of my life--my love, my fervent love for my husband." Bent-Anat had listened to her without interrupting her; she sat by her for a time in silence.

Then she said: "Come out into the gallery; then I will tell you what I think, and perhaps Toth may pour some helpful counsel into my mind.

I love you, and I know you well, and though I am not wise, I have my eyes open and a strong hand.