I would trust her with my soul."
"An Israelite! Thy nation's most active foe at this hour!"
"She is no enemy to me, Hotep."
Slowly the scribe's eyes traveled from the face of Athor to the face of
Kenkenes. The young sculptor turned away and leaned against the great
cube that walled one side of the niche. He was not prepared to meet
his friend's discerning eyes. Hotep surveyed him critically. A
momentous surmise forced itself upon him. He went to Kenkenes and,
laying an affectionate arm across his shoulder, leaned not lightly
thereon.
"Thou hast said, O my Kenkenes, that I should understand thy meaning
when thou spakest mysteriously a while agone. May I not know, now?
Thou didst plead offense to Athor and didst boast her pardon. Later
thou calledst her thy confederate. And earliest of all, thou didst
confess to asking favor of her. How may all these things be?"
"Look thou," Kenkenes began at once. "On one hand, I have my new
belief concerning sculpture--on the other, the beliefs of my fathers.
I practise the first and make propitiation for the second. No harm
hath overtaken me. Am I not pardoned? Furthermore, Athor is beauty,
and beauty guided my hand in creating this statue.
Pages:
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256