"And that is what made you so sad once or twice?" he asked, with a double eagerness.
She made no reply.
"Oh!" he said, passionately, "give me your confidence, Blanche. You are the only breathing thing that I love."
"If I could I would," she said. "But I don't know—not quite."
"How much do you know?"
But she sobbed again and would not answer. He dared not risk too much. After all, the physical barrier between the past and the present was very young.
"Well, well, then, we will talk about the other matter. I will not pretend to disguise the fact that your mother is distressed at the idea of parting from you, and thinks it would be as sad for your brothers and sisters, whom she says you influence for their good. Do you think that you do?"
"Yes."
"How do you know this?"
"Do you know why you know everything?"