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 Through her tears she did not recognise him.

“Who are you?” she asked in a faint voice.

He stood up and approached still closer, and then she recognised him. He was Prince Eros, the King of the Present.

“I know who you are,” said Psyche. “You are Prince Eros, who was to have married Emeralda, or Astra.”

He smiled, and she said:

“Why do you come here in the desert? Are you seeking here for the Jewel, or the Glass that magnifies?”

He smiled and shook his head.

“No, Psyche,” he said gently. “I have never sought for the Jewel nor for the Glass.

“But first tell me: why are you here and sleeping by the Sphinx?”

She told him. She spoke of her father who was dead, of the light-gold Chimera, of the purple desert and the sorrowful night. She told him of her tears.

“I have followed them, O Psyche!” he replied. “I have come ever since I saw you before your father’s throne—a day never to be forgotten!