Judas looked up with hatred:
“And what thinkest thou?”
“I think that He is the Son of the living God.”
“Then why askest thou? What could Judas say whose father is a goat?”
“But dost thou love Him? It seems that thou lovest no one.”
And with the same odd malice-reeking manner the Iscariot snapped out:
“I do.”
After this conversation Peter for a day or two loudly referred to Judas as his friend the octopus, while the other clumsily and wrathfully sought to escape from him into some obscure nook where he would sit and sulk, while his white never-closed eye gleamed ominously in the dark.
Thomas alone regarded Judas’ tales with seriousness. He was incapable of understanding jests, pretensions and lies, plays of words and of thoughts, and in everything sought the substantial and positive. All stories of Judas concerning evil people and their deeds he interrupted with brief business-like questions:
“Can you prove it? Who heard this? And who else was present? What was his name?”