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Chapter 13
Butwhytrampleuponthepieces;whyseektohumiliateherspirit?Aha!Hecouldnotbreakthat.Shedriedhertears.AndGiselle!Giselle!Thelittleonethat,eversinceshecouldtoddle,hadalwaysclungtoherskirtforprotection.Whatduplicity!Butshecouldnothelpitprobably.Whentherewasamaninthecasethepoorfeatherheadedwretchcouldnothelpherself.
LindahadagoodshareoftheViolastoicism.Sheresolvedtosaynothing.Butwoman-likesheputpassionintoherstoicism.Giselle’sshortanswers,promptedbyfearfulcaution,droveherbesideherselfbytheircurtnessthatresembleddisdain.OnedaysheflungherselfuponthechairinwhichherindolentsisterwaslyingandimpressedthemarkofherteethatthebaseofthewhitestneckinSulaco.Gisellecriedout.ButshehadhershareoftheViolaheroism.Readytofaintwithterror,sheonlysaid,inalazyvoice,“MadredeDios!Areyougoingtoeatmealive,Linda?”Andthisoutburstpassedoffleavingnotraceuponthesituation.“Sheknowsnothing.Shecannotknowanything,”reflectedGiselle.“Perhapsitisnottrue.Itcannotbetrue,”Lindatriedtopersuadeherself.
ButwhenshesawCaptainFidanzaforthefirsttimeafterhermeetingwiththedistractedRamirez,thecertitudeofhermisfortunereturned.Shewatchedhimfromthedoorwaygoawaytohisboat,askingherselfstoically,“Willtheymeetto-night?”Shemadeuphermindnottoleavethetowerforasecond.Whenhehaddisappearedshecameoutandsatdownbyherfather.