VERRINA (after a long pause, with a hollow voice). One word more, my daughter—thy last! Who was it?
BERTHA. Alas, what an angry deathlike paleness! Great God, support me!
How his words falter! His whole frame trembles!
VERRINA. I cannot comprehend it. Tell me, my daughter—who?
BERTHA. Compose yourself, my best, my dearest father!
VERRINA (ready to faint). For God's sake—who?
BERTHA. A mask——
VERRINA (steps back, thoughtfully). No! That cannot be!—the thought is idle—(smiling to himself ). What a fool am I to think that all the poison of my life can flow but from one source! (Firmly addressing himself to BERTHA.) What was his stature, less than mine or taller?
BERTHA. Taller.
VERRINA (eagerly). His hair? Black, and curled?
BERTHA. As black as jet and curled?