“‘If Casanova had had the courage to ask me to go with him, I would have gone,’ said she.
“Your man told her of your fortunate escape from three assassins. In the evening she congratulated Ricla on the circumstance, but he swore he knew nothing about it. Nina did not believe him. You may thank God from the bottom of your heart that you ever left Spain alive after knowing Nina. She would have cost you your life at last, and she punishes me for having given her life.”
“What! Are you her mother?”
“Yes; Nina, that horrible woman, is my daughter.”
“Really? Everybody says you are her sister.”
“That is the horrible part of it, everybody is right.”
“Explain yourself!”
“Yes, though it is to my shame. She is my sister and my daughter, for she is the daughter of my father.”
“What! your father loved you?”
“I do not know whether the scoundrel loved me, but he treated me as his wife. I was sixteen then. She is the daughter of the crime, and God knows she is sufficient punishment for it. My father died to escape her vengeance; may he also escape the vengeance of God. I should have strangled her in her cradle, but maybe I shall strangle her yet. If I do not, she will kill me.”