“At her request!” he echoed in surprise. “Why did she send you away from her side?”
I hesitated. Should I reveal to him the truth?
“She declared that it was better for us to remain apart,” I said.
“Yes,” he sighed. “And she spoke the truth, Mr. Biddulph—the entire truth, remember.”
“Why? Do tell me what you know concerning the man Pennington.”
“I regret that I am not permitted to do that.”
“Why?”
For some moments he did not reply. He twisted his cigarette in his thin, nervous fingers, his gaze being fixed upon the lawn outside. At last, however, he turned to me, and in a low, rather strained tone said slowly—
“The minister of religion sometimes learns strange family secrets, but, as a servant of God, the confidences and confessions reposed in him must always be treated as absolutely sacred. Therefore,” he added, “please do not ask me again to betray my trust.”
His was, indeed, a stern rebuke. I saw that, in my eager enthusiasm, I had expected him to reveal a forbidden truth. Therefore I stammered an apology.