The recollection of Matho came upon her, nor did she resist the desire to learn what had become of him.
Narr' Havas replied that the Carthaginians were advancing towards Tunis to take it.

In proportion as he set forth their chances of success and Matho's weaknesses, she seemed to rejoice in extraordinary hope.

Her lips trembled, her breast panted.

When he finally promised to kill him himself, she exclaimed: "Yes! kill him! It must be so!" The Numidian replied that he desired this death ardently, since he would be her husband when the war was over.
Salammbo started, and bent her head.
But Narr' Havas, pursuing the subject, compared his longings to flowers languishing for rain, or to lost travellers waiting for the day.

He told her, further, that she was more beautiful than the moon, better than the wind of morning or than the face of a guest.