"Ah, then, we have not been to Egypt. I have not seen Karnak or Philae or Abydos. This is not the Nile. I have but heard a song of India, and been boating in a dream."
"Philae--Karnak. Mourn rather that you have not seen the Rameses at Aboo Simbel, looking at which makes it so easy to think of God, the maker of the heavens and earth. Or why should you mourn at all? Let us go on to the river; and if I cannot sing"--she laughed--"because I have said I would not, yet I can tell you stories of Egypt."
"Go on! Ay, till morning comes, and the evening, and the next morning!" he said, vehemently.
"Of what shall my stories be? Of the mathematicians?"
"I will tell you a cure for love. It is the story of a queen. Listen reverently. The papyrus from which it was taken by the priests of Philae was wrested from the hand of the heroine herself. It is correct in form, and must be true:
"There is no parallelism in human lives.
"The most perfect life develops as a circle, and terminates in its beginning, making it impossible to say, This is the commencement, that the end.
"Perfect lives are the treasures of God; of great days he wears them on the ring-finger of his heart hand."
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