“No. My love.”

“He does not know this, then?”

“No, thank heaven! And he never will.”

“Why not?”

“Because I am too proud to own it.”

“He loves you, my child?”

“I do not know—I dare not hope it,” murmured Jean.

“Can I not help you here? Believe me, I desire to see you safe and happy. Is there nothing I can do?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

“May I know the name?”