Nefer is dead, yet is not Nefer re-incarnated in another form, another man of another build, but yet Nefer that was--and is beside me now ?" She whispered these words very softly and very distinctly, and as the words came rippling out from between her half-smiling lips, she took half a pace forward and looked up into his face.
"Not dead--Nefer--I!" he exclaimed, starting back.

"Have not the Paraschites done their work on his body?
Is not his mummy even now resting in the City of the Dead?
How can it be?
Surely, Nitocris, thou art dreaming." "And hast thou, a priest and sage, standing on the threshold of the Holy Mysteries, hast thou not learned the law which tells thee how, with the permission of the Divine Assessors, the souls of the dead may come back from the halls of Amenti to do their bidding in other mortal shapes?
And what if they should have ordained that his soul should have thus returned?
"Thou, who art so like him that while he was yet alive mortal eyes could scarce distinguish the one from the other.

May it not be that the gods, who foresee all things, made thee in the same image, perchance to this very end ?" "No, the riddle is too deep for me, even as that other riddle which I read in thy eyes, O Queen!" "Let thy love help thee to read it, then!" she replied, coming to him and putting her hands on his shoulders again.

"Tell me now, Ma-Rim[=o]n, what wouldst thou do if thy soul were now waiting in the land of Aalu and the soul of Nefer was listening to me with thine ears, and looking at me with thine eyes ?" "And if thou----" "Yes, and if I too believed that this were so ?" He saw the sweet, red, smiling lips coming nearer to him, and felt the soft breath on his bare throat.

He saw the deep eyes melting into tenderness as the moonlight shone upon them, and in the pale olive cheeks a faint flush swiftly deepened.
"Nefer or Ma-Rim[=o]n, I am mortal," he said, swiftly catching her wrists and drawing her towards him.