“Why—” he returned, clearing his throat to gain time, “it’s on the surface. She is a very pretty woman who is a fine musician. You can tell by Hugh’s attitude what she meant to the boys over there, and she has a reputation all through the South.”
“Did you know her before her marriage when she was Miss Morehouse?”
“Yes.”
“What was her father like?”
“Why—” Ogden hesitated. “I understood they were your relatives.”
“No. They’re not. Is her father living?”
“I—I really don’t know; but Mr. Morehouse died only last year.”
“Well, he was her father, wasn’t he?”
“No; he married her mother when the daughter was a child prodigy at the piano.”