"Yes; and I entreat you, however strange you may think my question, to suspend your indignation for awhile, and answer me in plain words."
"I will endeavour to do so, if it is such a question as you should address to me."
"I will not fret you by arguments or expostulations. You have suffered deeply, and from my heart I pity you. Plainly, whom do you take me for?"
"For yourself--for no other man, be sure."
"But let me hear my name from your lips."
"As you insist upon it," she said, with sad contempt, "though such a farce should not be played at such a time; but when were you otherwise than you are? You are Newman Chaytor."
"I," said Basil, speaking very slowly, "am Newman Chaytor?"
"You are he; there lives not such another, and remembering all that has passed between us, remembering your vows and oaths, for that I say, thank God! If you have any reason for going by another name, for wishing to be known by another name--and you may have, heaven help you!--be sure that I will not betray you. You are dead to me, as I am dead to you."
"Look at me well," said Basil. "If you were upon your oath would you swear that I am the man you say I am?"
"To swear otherwise would be to swear falsely. What crime have you committed that you should stand in dread of being known?"