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Jackson, Helen Hunt, 1830-1885

"Ramona"


"I have often thought about Ramona's future, mother. You know a
great many men would not want to marry her, just because she is
half Indian. You, yourself, would never have given your consent to
my marrying her, if I had wanted to." Again an exclamation from
the Senora, this time more of horror than of scorn. But Felipe
pressed on. "No, of course you would not, I always knew that;
except for that, I might have loved her myself, for a sweeter girl
never drew breath in this God's earth." Felipe was reckless now;
having entered on this war, he would wage it with every weapon
that lay within his reach; if one did not tell, another might. "You
have never loved her. I don't know that you have ever even liked
her; I don't think you have. I know, as a little boy, I always used to
see how much kinder you were to me than to her, and I never
could understand it. And you are unjust to her now. I've been
watching her all summer; I've seen her and Alessandro together
continually. You know yourself, mother, he has been with us on
the veranda, day after day, just as if he were one of the family.


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