“Oh, perhaps you mean Diego.”
“That’s it! Was that your father’s name? We’re very much interested to know.”
“Well, I’m sure I can’t say. It might have been.”
“Then you don’t deny it?”
“No; how can I?” she said, smiling. “I never knew him.”
“But––you think it was, don’t you?”
“Well, I don’t believe it was Padre Diego––he wasn’t a good man.”
“Then you knew him?”
“Oh, very well! I was in his house, in Banco. He used to insist that I was his child.”
“I see. By the way, you knew a woman named Jude, didn’t you? Here in the city.”