“She landed a queen this time, didn’t she?” looking admiringly at Carmen. “Gets me, how the old girl does it! What’s your name, kiddo?”
“Carmen,” replied the girl timidly, looking questioningly about the room.
“That’s a good handle. But what’s the rest?” put in another.
“Carmen Ariza,” the child amended, as her big, wondering eyes swept the group.
“Wow! That’s a moniker for you!” laughed one. “Where do you hail from, angel-face?”
The girl looked uncomprehendingly at her interlocutor.
“Your home, you know. I see your finish, all right. But where’d you begin?”
“Tell them where you lived, child,” said the woman called Jude in a low voice.
“Simití,” replied Carmen, tears choking her words.
“Simití!” echoed around the table. “New York? Ohio? Or Kansas?” A burst of mirth punctuated the question.