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Updated: May 17, 2025
But his silence seemed to him cowardly; he felt that he must cry out in the presence of those canvases, what he had not dared to say outside. It was a longing to flatter the dead woman, to implore her forgiveness, by confessing his hopeless love. "Yes, it is Josephina."
But as she felt the touch of his lips and his beard on her arm she struggled to free herself, half-laughing, half-trembling. "Let me go, Mariano! I'll scream! I'll call Marie! I won't receive you again in my bedroom. You aren't worthy of being trusted. Quiet, master, or I'll tell Josephina everything."
But this artistic activity did not seem to satisfy him. His life of increased intimacy with Josephina aroused in him mysterious longings that he hardly dared to formulate. Mornings when his wife, fresh and rosy from her bath, appeared before him almost naked, he looked at her with greedy eyes. "Oh, if you were only willing! If you didn't have that foolish prejudice of yours!"
It is an enormous burden off my mind to think it is so nicely provided for. Besides, most of those old things were yours by the right of rediscovery, and you voted first of all to have Aunt Josephina come." "You must take it, of course, Ray," said Willard. "Nothing else would give Sara and me so much pleasure. A blessing on Aunt Josephina." "Amen," said Sara and Ray.
The merriment of the artists shocked the sedate frugality of the habitues, priests of the Papal palace or visitors who were in Rome scheming advancement; loud-mouthed lawyers in dirty frock-coats from the nearby Palace of Justice, loaded with papers. "What maccheroni! Remember, Pepe? How poor Josephina liked it!"
And still, there was never a woman who loved her husband so passionately." "I worship you. Josephina, I love you just as I did when we first met each other. Do you remember?" But in spite of the emotion he pretended to show, his voice had a false ring. "Don't try to bluff, Mariano; it is useless; everything is over. You do not care for me nor have I either any of the old feeling."
She went away repeating once more that Josephina was killing herself, that it was perfect folly for her to nurse the baby in her delicate condition, regretting that she did not follow the example of her mother who had always intrusted her children to nurses. Josephina cried bitterly when her mother went, but Renovales said "good-by" with ill-concealed joy. Bon voyage!
Josephina closed her eyes as if she wanted to flee from the shame of her nakedness. On the smooth sheet, her graceful form was outlined in a slightly rosy tone, intoxicating the eyes of the artist. Josephina's face was not much to look at, but her body! If he could only overcome her scruples some time and paint her! Renovales kneeled down beside the bed in a transport of admiration.
The deadly resignation would change a moment later into furious antagonism. Renovales could never tell how the quarrel began. The most insignificant word on his part, the expression of his face, silence even, was all that was needed to bring on the storm. Josephina began to speak with a taunting accent that made her words cut like cold steel.
And she's fussy and interfering, and she will fight with Cousin Caroline, everybody fights with Cousin Caroline " "Except Sara," interrupted Ray, but Sara went on with a rush, "And we won't have a minute's peace all winter. Anyhow, where could we put her even if we wanted her to come? No, we can't have her!" "Mother was always very fond of Aunt Josephina," said Ray reflectively.
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