“And now I do not even ask you for your secret.”
“Oh, but I can tell you now! I am free to tell you now——”
“But I do not even care to hear it! I do not even ask you by
‘What conjuration and what mighty magic’
you, my little country girl, are here in Paris, arrayed and lodged in royal magnificence, and gracing more than any other lady in it the salon of Madame la Princesse Gherardini. I am so perfectly satisfied for the present just to have you by my side.”
“I bless you for your faith and your forbearance, Tudor! But—I can tell you the secret of Monsieur Ancillon’s correspondence with me in one single word. He is my—father!”
“Your father, Lilith! Ancillon your father!”
“Yes, though I never knew it until after we were married.”
“Ancillon your father! Incredible! Are you sure of that?”
“Quite sure.”