I could kill you, but you are a woman.

The Desert is open to receive me; and though Rome is a good hunter of men, there she would follow long and far before she caught me, for in its heart there are wildernesses of spears as well as wildernesses of sand, and it is not unlovely to the unconquered Parthian.

In the toils as I am--dupe that I have been--yet there is one thing my due: who told you all you know about me?
In flight or captivity, dying even, there will be consolation in leaving the traitor the curse of a man who has lived knowing nothing but wretchedness.

Who told you all you know about me ?" It might have been a touch of art, or might have been sincere--that as it may--the expression of the Egyptian's face became sympathetic.
"There are in my country, O son of Hur," she said, presently, "workmen who make pictures by gathering vari-colored shells here and there on the sea-shore after storms, and cutting them up, and patching the pieces as inlaying on marble slabs.
Can you not see the hint there is in the practice to such as go searching for secrets?
Enough that from this person I gathered a handful of little circumstances, and from that other yet another handful, and that afterwhile I put them together, and was happy as a woman can be who has at disposal the fortune and life of a man whom"-- she stopped, and beat the floor with her foot, and looked away as if to hide a sudden emotion from him; with an air of even painful resolution she presently finished the sentence--"whom she is at loss what to do with." "No, it is not enough," Ben-Hur said, unmoved by the play--"it is not enough.

To-morrow you will determine what to do with me.
I may die." "True," she rejoined quickly and with emphasis, "I had something from Sheik Ilderim as he lay with my father in a grove out in the Desert.