"
"Who would have a right?" said Maruja, withdrawing her hand but not
her dangerous eyes. "Who would dare forbid you talking to me of my
sister? I have told you that Amita is free--as we all are."
Captain Carroll fell back a few steps and gazed at her with a
troubled face. "It is possible that you have misunderstood, Miss
Saltonstall?" he faltered. "Do you still think it is Amita that
I"--he stopped and added passionately, "Do you remember what I told
you?--have you forgotten last night?"
"Last night was--last night!" said Maruja, slightly lifting her
shoulders. "One makes love at night--one marries in daylight. In
the music, in the flowers, in the moonlight, one says everything;
in the morning one has breakfast--when one is not asked to have
councils of war with captains and commandantes. You would speak of
my sister, Captain Car-roll--go on. Dona Amita Carroll sounds
very, very pretty. I shall not object." She held out both her
hands to him, threw her head back, and smiled.
He seized her hands passionately. "No, no! you shall hear me--you
shall understand me. I love YOU, Maruja--you, and you alone. God
knows I can not help it--God knows I would not help it if I could.
Hear me. I will be calm. No one can hear us where we stand. I am
not mad. I am not a traitor! I frankly admired your sister. I
came here to see her. Beyond that, I swear to you, I am guiltless
to her--to you. Even she knows no more of me than that.
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