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Updated: May 5, 2025
But Fate does not sleep, though she seems sometimes to nod and forget to kill. Matilde came to the house as the clock struck eleven, and entered by the dark, arched door, and went up the damp, stone steps, as Bosio had done a fortnight earlier.
"You do not remember whether you told him that you were to marry Veronica or not?" Matilde laughed angrily and came forward. "Let that book alone!" she said imperiously. "Look at me so now tell me the truth!" She laid her hand upon his arm, and not gently, and she made him turn to her.
"It is horrible weather," observed Matilde, looking at the window, upon which the rain was beating like wet whips, making the panes rattle and shake. "Yes, but I want some air," answered Veronica, in a tone of decision. At such a time it was not safe to irritate the girl even about the smallest matter, and Matilde said nothing more, though under other circumstances she would have made objections.
DON EDUARDO. En efecto, no tienes hoy mucho que trabajar.... DOÑA MATILDE. ¡En que trabajar! DON EDUARDO. Sólo levantar la cama, barrer el cuarto, y ... pero, lo que es desde mañana, ya me dirás si te queda tiempo para fastidiarte. DOÑA MATILDE. ¿También tendré que barrer mañana?
All these Matilde had strenuously kept away, isolating Veronica as much as possible from young people of her own age, and proportionately diminishing both the girl's power to choose a husband for herself and her appreciation of her own right to make the choice. Nevertheless, Veronica knew that she had that right, and she intended to exercise it.
Matilde shook her head mournfully, as Bosio sat down beside her, already sinking back to his long-learned docility. "There is no other way," she said. "There is certainly none, that is sure. I have thought it all over, as one thinks of everything when everything is in danger. The only other course is to throw ourselves upon Veronica's mercy " "Well?
Bosio started, too, but Matilde fixed her eyes sternly on Gregorio's face. He saw that she looked at him, and he nodded, suddenly assuming the expression of docility she had noticed for the first time in the afternoon.
His face was like stone, but as he opened his mouth to let out the wreathing smoke, his lips smiled in an unnatural way. Matilde half unconsciously compared him to one of those grimacing Chinese monsters of grey porcelain, made for burning incense and perfumes, from whose stony jaws the thick smoke comes out on the right and left in slowly curling strings.
Veronica herself was animated, and had never looked so well before, in the recollection of the other three. After dinner Gregorio disappeared almost immediately, and at the end of a quarter of an hour Matilde left the room, merely observing that she was going to write letters and would come back when she had finished. Bosio and Veronica were alone.
Of course it was still in his power to answer in one way or the other, though he was yet undecided. But he honestly could not bring himself to say that he would marry Veronica, and yet, if he denied that he was betrothed to her, he must put his brother and Matilde in the position of having told a deliberate lie to Gianluca's father.
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