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Chapter 5

           

           Histoneremainedlight,andasifunawareofhispresenceshestoodmotionless,herhandsclaspedlightly,thefanhangingdownfromherinterlacedfingers.Hewaitedforawhile,andthen

           “Ishallgotothewall,”hesaid,withasortofjoculardesperation.

           Eventhatdeclarationdidnotmakeherlookathim.Herheadremainedstill,hereyesfixeduponthehouseoftheAvellanos,whosechippedpilasters,brokencornices,thewholedegradationofdignitywashiddennowbythegatheringduskofthestreet.Inherwholefigureherlipsalonemoved,formingthewords

           “Martin,youwillmakemecry.”

           Heremainedsilentforaminute,startled,asifoverwhelmedbyasortofawedhappiness,withthelinesofthemockingsmilestillstiffenedabouthismouth,andincreduloussurpriseinhiseyes.Thevalueofasentenceisinthepersonalitywhichuttersit,fornothingnewcanbesaidbymanorwoman;andthosewerethelastwords,itseemedtohim,thatcouldeverhavebeenspokenbyAntonia.Hehadnevermadeitupwithhersocompletelyinalltheirintercourseofsmallencounters;butevenbeforeshehadtimetoturntowardshim,whichshedidslowlywitharigidgrace,hehadbeguntoplead

           “Mysisterisonlywaitingtoembraceyou.Myfatheristransportedwithjoy.Iwon’tsayanythingofmymother!Ourmotherswerelikesisters.Thereisthemail-boatforthesouthnextweekletusgo.

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