Really, doesn't it seem a little hard that a person in my position should not be given all the information possible concerning himself ?" "It does not concern you--that is, not directly.

It is not about you exactly," she replied, scarcely audibly.
"But it concerns me in some way," I persisted.

"It must be something that would interest me." "I don't know even that," she replied, venturing a momentary glance at my face, furiously blushing, and yet with a quaint smile flickering about her lips which betrayed a certain perception of humor in the situation despite its embarrassment,--"I am not sure that it would even interest you." "Your father would have told me," I insisted, with an accent of reproach.

"It was you who forbade him.

He thought I ought to know." She did not reply.