Stella, is it you?
I forbade you to let it pass your lips." "I did not speak it, father.

I have never spoken it," she answered.
"Sir," I broke in, "if you will allow me I will show you how I came to know your name.

Do you remember many years ago coming into the study of a clergyman in Oxfordshire and telling him that you were going to leave England for ever ?" He bowed his head.
"And do you remember a little boy who sat upon the hearthrug writing with a pencil ?" "I do," he said.
"Sir, I was that boy, and my name is Allan Quatermain.

Those children who lay sick are all dead, their mother is dead, and my father, your old friend, is dead also.

Like you he emigrated, and last year he died in the Cape.