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Updated: May 28, 2025
Instead she shut herself into her room, where she paced the floor, racking her brain to guess where the hiding-place could be or to devise some means of silencing Sebastian's tongue.
He drew her attention to a little pool of beer on the table, and stood until she had made good this lapse in her duty. Then he pointed to Sebastian's mug of beer and dismissed her giggling, to get one for him of the same size and contents. Making sure that there was no one within earshot, he waited until Sebastian's dreamy eye met his, and then said "It is time we understood each other."
These thoughts flashed through Don Sebastian's brain while George was still speaking; and by the time that the latter had finished, His Excellency had formulated his plans and was ready to reply. Hence his benignant smile, which was intended to suggest also a tinge of sarcasm and incredulity.
From it I regretfully learned that Your Excellency categorically refused to accede to Don Sebastian's most reasonable request, notwithstanding the fact that the city of Nombre was then in my hands and at my mercy, and that, for all you knew to the contrary, your refusal would involve it in all the horrors of sack and destruction.
Sebastian's day, and so on. These all seek in their fasting nothing beyond the work itself: when they have performed that, they think they have done a good work.
It is so passing wonderful! Did you get it from an unquestionable source? Bear with me if I seem to press. "'Also bear with all of us, sir sailor; for we all join in Don Sebastian's suit, cried the company, with exceeding interest. "'Is there a copy of the Holy Evangelists in the Golden Inn, gentlemen?
The series began with Sebastian's boyish enthusiasm for a strange, fine saying of Doctor Baruch de Spinosa, concerning the Divine Love: That whoso loveth God truly must not expect to be loved by him in return.
Sebastian's refusal to perform the usual miracle, and no miracle was expected nor had the image yielded any. The priest was mistaken. A miracle there had been. But for what had chanced, the multitude must have come again confidently expecting the bleeding of the image which had never failed in five years, and had the image not bled it must have fared ill with the guardian of the shrine.
Plantain, palm, orange, and tamarind trees bordered the hollow; over the rocky walls ran a riot of vines and ferns and ornamental plants. It was Sebastian's task to keep this place green, and thither he took his way, from force of habit. Through the twilight came Pancho Cueto, the manager, a youngish man, with a narrow face and bold, close-set eyes.
I recognised Sebastian's great merits, respected his character, admired his wide range of knowledge, but I could not associate with him again, could not even so much as walk down the street by his side. All his affectionate and beautiful letters glanced off ineffectual from this repugnance. Something in me had suddenly turned stony, like a plant plunged in petrifying water.
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