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Updated: June 26, 2025
The blows he gave were hard and crushing in their force, without any thing to mitigate their severity. His words, if the comparison may be allowed, were like a pitiless discharge of artillery. Dona Perfecta sank again on the sofa; but she shed no tears, and a convulsive tremor agitated her frame.
As you see, Perfecta receives my plan with joy; she says that she too had thought of it, but that she did not venture to mention it to me, because you are you have seen what she says because you are a young man of very exceptional merit and her daughter is a country girl, without either a brilliant education or worldly attractions. Those are her words. My poor sister! How good she is!
The agitation of Pepe Rey's mind was so great that, notwithstanding his natural prudence and moderation, he was unable to conceal it. "There! I see that you are angry," said Dona Perfecta, casting down her eyes and clasping her hands. "I am very sorry. If I had known that you would have taken it in that way, I should not have spoken to you. Pepe, I ask your pardon."
They awaited dinner in silence. They did not wait for Don Cayetano, for he had gone to Mundogrande. When they sat down to table Dona Perfecta said: "And that fine soldier whom the Government has sent us, is he not coming to dinner?" "He seems to be more sleepy than hungry," answered the engineer, without looking at his aunt. "Do you know him?" "I have never seen him in all my life before."
Lose my daughter!" exclaimed Dona Perfecta, with a sudden access of rage. "Only to hear you puts me out of my senses. No, they shall not take her from me! If Rosario does not abhor that ruffian as I wish her to do, she shall abhor him. For a mother's authority must have some weight.
But the material was wanting there for a complete personality. The channel was wanting, the banks were wanting. The vast wealth of her spirit overflowed, threatening to wash away the narrow borders. When her cousin saluted her she blushed crimson, and uttered only a few unintelligible words. "You must be fainting with hunger," said Dona Perfecta to her nephew.
Rosarito liked him, and he liked Rosarito. The matter seemed settled. Dona Perfecta herself, without being very enthusiastic, doubtless on account of our origin, seemed favorably disposed toward it, because of her great esteem and veneration for me, as her confessor and friend. But suddenly this unlucky young man presents himself.
"Senor Don Jacinto does not write hastily," said Pepe Rey; "he prepares himself well for his work, so that his books may be treasures of learning." "But that boy will injure his brain," objected Dona Perfecta. "For Heaven's sake be careful! I would set a limit to his reading."
"Come, boy, come; for it is late," he said, smiling. "How you have tormented poor Rosarito, has he not, child? Home, you rogue, home, without delay." "It is time to go to bed," said Dona Perfecta. "Time to go to work," responded the little lawyer. "I am always telling him that he ought to get through with his business in the day-time, but he will not mind me."
"Why do you talk about killing? I want no one killed, much less my nephew a person whom I love, in spite of his wickedness." "A homicide! What an atrocity!" exclaimed Don Inocencio, scandalized. "The man is mad!" "To kill! The very idea of killing a man horrifies me, Caballuco," said Dona Perfecta, closing her mild eyes. "Poor man!
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