Tell me exactly what you thought when you found out at last who I really was." But with a pretty, impatient movement she interrupted him.
"No, no; let us talk of you, only of you.

Am I really of any consequence?
At all events, what matters it who I am or what I think! For the moment you are the only one of importance." And keeping as near him as possible, going more slowly along the sides of the enchanted river, she questioned him incessantly, wishing to learn everything about him, of his childhood, his youth, and the twenty years he had passed away from his father.

"I already know that your mother died when you were an infant, and that you grew up under the care of an uncle who is a clergyman.

I also know that Monseigneur refused to see you again." Then Felicien answered, speaking in a very low tone, with a voice that seemed as if it came from the far-away past.
"Yes, my father idolised my mother, and it seemed to him as if I were guilty, since my birth had cost her her life.

My uncle brought me up in entire ignorance of my family, harshly too, as if I had been a poor child confided to his care.