"I don't know what I am."
"Why, I thought—your name was Philippa Wildresse."
"I am called that."
"Then Monsieur Wildresse isn't a relation?"
"No. I wear his name for lack of any other.... He found me somewhere, he says.... In Paris, I believe.... That is all he will tell me."
"Evidently," said Warner in his pleasant, sympathetic voice, "you have had an education somewhere."
"He sent me to school in England until I was sixteen.... After that I became cashier for him."
"He gave you his name, and he supports you.... Is he kind to you?"
"He has never struck me."
"Does he protect you?"