“Igraine was angry with you.”
“Well, have I not treated her like a daughter?”
“She fled away last night.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do.”
“I don’t, father; ’tis truth.”
The girl’s brown eyes appealed to him tearfully; she was honest enough, and Radamanth knew it. He took her sincerity for granted and proceeded to question her further.
“How was she clothed, child?”