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Chapter 7

           

           “Mydeargirl,thereisthatinAntoniawhichwouldmakemebelieveinthefeasibilityofanything.Onelookatherfaceisenoughtosetmybrainonfire.AndyetIloveherasanyothermanwouldwiththeheart,andwiththatalone.SheismoretomethanhisChurchtoFatherCorbelan(theGrandVicardisappearedlastnightfromthetown;perhapsgonetojointhebandofHernandez).SheismoretomethanhispreciousminetothatsentimentalEnglishman.Iwon’tspeakofhiswife.Shemayhavebeensentimentalonce.TheSanTomeminestandsnowbetweenthosetwopeople.‘Yourfatherhimself,Antonia,’Irepeated;‘yourfather,doyouunderstand?hastoldmetogoon.’

           “Sheavertedherface,andinapainedvoice

           “‘Hehas?’shecried.‘Then,indeed,Ifearhewillneverspeakagain.’

           “Shefreedherwristsfrommyclutchandbegantocryinherhandkerchief.Idisregardedhersorrow;Iwouldratherseehermiserablethannotseeheratall,neveranymore;forwhetherIescapedorstayedtodie,therewasforusnocomingtogether,nofuture.Andthatbeingso,Ihadnopitytowasteuponthepassingmomentsofhersorrow.IsentheroffintearstofetchDonaEmiliaandDonCarlos,too.Theirsentimentwasnecessarytotheverylifeofmyplan;thesentimentalismofthepeoplethatwillneverdoanythingforthesakeoftheirpassionatedesire,unlessitcomestothemclothedinthefairrobesofanidea.

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