|
The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Montezuma's Daughter by H. Rider Haggard: broken English which I will spare to write down.
'Madam,' I said, 'have I the honour to speak to one who in bygone
years was named the Senora Lily Bozard?'
'That was my name,' she answered. 'What is your errand with me,
sir?'
Now I trembled afresh, but spoke on boldly.
'Before I answer, Madam, forgive me if I ask another question. Is
this still your name?'
'It is still my name, I am no married woman,' she answered, and for
a moment the sky seemed to reel above me and the ground to heave
beneath my feet like the lava crust of Xaca. But as yet I did not
 Montezuma's Daughter |