"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."

I remained dumb at the conclusion of this dreadful story, which bore all
the marks of truth.

"Does Nina know that you are her mother?"

"Her own father told her the secret when she was twelve, after he had
initiated her into the life she has been living ever since. He would have
made her a mother in her turn if he had not killed himself the same year,
maybe to escape the gallows."

"How did the Conte de Ricla fall in love with her?"

"It is a short story and a curious one. Two years ago she came to
Barcelona from Portugal, and was placed in one of the ballets for the
sake of her pretty face, for as to talents she had none, and could only
do the rebaltade (a sort of skip and pirouette) properly.

"The first evening she danced she was loudly applauded by the pit, for as
she did the rebaltade she shewed her drawers up to her waist. In Spain
any actress who shews her drawers on the stage is liable to a fine of a
crown. Nina knew nothing about this, and, hearing the applause, treated