In Durance
turned in the direction of the two women, and I saw that he was none other than Thurid, the black dator of the First Born.
He approached quite close to them before he spoke, and as they turned at the sound of his voice I saw Dejah Thoris shrink from him.
There was a nasty leer upon his face as he stepped close to her and spoke again. I could not hear his words, but her answer came clearly.
"The granddaughter of Tardos Mors can always die," she said, "but she could never live at the price you name."
Then I saw the black scoundrel go upon his knees beside her, fairly groveling in the dirt, pleading with her. Only part of what he said came to me, for though he was evidently laboring under the stress of passion and excitement, it was equally apparent that he did not dare raise his voice for fear of detection.
"I would save you from Matai Shang," I heard him say. "You know the fate that awaits you at his hands. Would you not choose me rather than the other?"
"I would choose neither," replied Dejah Thoris, "even were I free to choose, as you know well I am not."
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