Kenkenes looked at the lyre and did not answer at once. There was no
song in his heart and a moody silence seemed more like to possess his
lips. His audience, too, was not in the temper for song. He took in
the expression of the guests with a single comprehensive glance.
Siptah's hands were clenched and his face was blackened with a frown.
Ta-user's silken brows were lifted, and even the pallid countenance of
the prince was set and his eyes were fixed on nothing. Seti was
entangled by the princess' witchery and he saw no one else. Io,
blanched and miserable, forgotten by Seti, forgot all others. In his
heart Kenkenes knew that Nechutes was unhappy and Hotep and Masanath;
and even if there were those in the banquet-room who had no overweening
sorrow, the evident discontent of the troubled oppressed them.
Far from finding inspiration for song in the faces of the guests,
Kenkenes felt an impulse to rush out of the atmosphere of unrest and
unhappiness into the solitary night, where no intrusion of another's
sorrow could dispute the great triumph of his own grief. The bitter
soul in him longed to laugh at the idea of singing.
The hesitation between Senci's invitation and his answer was not
noticeable.
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