It's no business of mine.

Only he is going to rebel ....
But here we are at your door.' 'To what ?' asked Orestes, in a horrified tone.
'To rebel, and attack Rome.' 'Good gods--God, I mean.

A fresh bore! Come in, and tell a poor miserable slave of a governor--speak low, for Heaven's sake!--I hope these rascally grooms haven't overheard you.' 'Easy to throw them into the canal, if they have,' quoth Raphael, as he walked coolly through hall and corridor after the perturbed governor.
Poor Orestes never stopped till he reached a little chamber of the inner court, beckoned the Jew in after him, locked the door, threw himself into an arm-chair, put his hands on his knees, and sat, bending forward, staring into Raphael's face with a ludicrous terror and perplexity.
'Tell me all about it.

Tell me this instant.' 'I have told you all I know,' quoth Raphael, quietly seating himself on a sofa, and playing with a jewelled dagger.

'I thought, of course, that you were in the secret, or I should have said nothing.