"What is it?"
"I don't know," said I. "This is a new name; he has only had it a week."
"How long have you known him?"
"A long, long time, Mademoiselle. He adopted me when I was quite small."
"You are not very big now," she said with a smile.
"I am nearly sixteen," said I proudly.
To herself she murmured, "I don't think I can be mistaken."
In a different tone she continued, "You spoke some nonsense about his being your master and teaching you philosophy."
"It wasn't nonsense," I replied stoutly. "He teaches me everything. He teaches me history and Shakespeare and François Villon, and painting and Schopenhauer and the tambourine."