"Show it to me and I will talk with it." "I cannot, Rames, for it is _me_.

Moreover, if Set took it, he would take me also, and you are wicked to wish such a thing." Now the boy began to cry with vexation, sobbing out that she was not to be trusted, and that he had paid away his bronze knife, which Pharaoh had given him when last he visited the temple, for a pigeon to tempt the beast to the top of the water, so that they might see it, although the knife was worth many pigeons, and Pharaoh would be angry if he heard that he had parted with it.
"Why should we take the life of a poor pigeon to please ourselves ?" asked Tua, softening a little at the sight of his grief.
"It's taken already," he answered.

"It fluttered so that I had to sit on it to hide it from the priest, and when he had gone it was dead.

Look," and he opened the linen bag he held, and showed her the dove cold and stiff.
"As you did not mean to kill it, that makes a difference," said Tua judicially.

"Well, perhaps my Ka did not mean that we should not have one peep, and it is a pity to waste the poor pigeon, which then will have died for nothing." Rames agreed that it would be the greatest of pities, so the two children slipped away through the trees of the garden into the shadow of the wall, along which they crept till they came to the bronze door.