"Pass that over, since we are both young. The third reason is harder to tell and no power on earth can explain it away. I am no match for you in birth, Orsino—"
The young man interrupted her now, and fiercely.
"Do you dare to think that I care what your birth may be?" he asked.
"There are those who do care, even if you do not, dear one," she answered quietly.
"And what is their caring to you or me?"
"It is not so small a matter as you think. I am not talking of a mere difference in rank. It is worse than that. I do not really know who I am. Do you understand? I do not know who my mother was nor whether she is alive or dead, and before I was married I did not bear my father's name."
"But you know your father—you know his name at least?"
"Yes."
"Who is he?" Orsino could hardly pronounce the words of the question.
"Count Spicca."