"I shall marry the Indian Alessandro, Senora Moreno," she said, in
a tone as defiant, and now almost as insolent, as the Senora's own.
The Senora paid no heed to the words, except to say, "Do not
interrupt me again. I have much to tell you;" and opening the box,
she lifted out and placed on the table tray after tray of jewels. The
sheet of written paper lay at the bottom of the box.
"Do you see this paper, Senorita Ramona?" she asked, holding it
up. Ramona bowed her head. "This was written by my sister, the
Senora Ortegna, who adopted you and gave you her name. These
were her final instructions to me, in regard to the disposition to be
made of the property she left to you."
Ramona's lips parted. She leaned forward, breathless, listening,
while the Senora read sentence after sentence. All the pent-up
pain, wonder, fear of her childhood and her girlhood, as to the
mystery of her birth, swept over her anew, now. Like one
hearkening for life or death, she listened. She forgot Alessandro.
She did not look at the jewels. Her eyes never left the Senora's
face.
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