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her eyes to the floor; but her voice betrayed no emotion when she
proceeded--
"
I have warned you--I must still warn you--to go hence. This man will
destroy you, else. He is a tyrant who knows no pity. I, who am his
fettered slave, know this. Poor Miles, and Arthur, and my dear guardian,
Sir Richard, are free of him, and at rest: better that you were with
them than that you bide here in the clutches of this miscreant. Your
pretensions are a menace to his title and possessions; you have assaulted
him in his own house: you are ruined if you stay. Go--do not hesitate.
If you lack money, take this purse, I beg of you, and bribe the servants
to let you pass. Oh, be warned, poor soul, and escape while you may."
Miles declined the purse with a gesture, and rose up and stood before
her.
"Grant me one thing," he said. "Let your eyes rest upon mine, so that I
may see if they be steady. There--now answer me. Am I Miles Hendon?"
"
No. I know you not."
Swear it!"
"
The answer was low, but distinct--
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