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Jackson, Helen Hunt, 1830-1885

"Ramona"

"
Ramona's face did not reassure him. Even in the dusk he could see
its look of incredulous horror. He misread it.
"I only came to look at you once more," he continued. "I will go
now. May the saints bless you, my Senorita, always. I think the
Virgin sent you to me to-night. I should never have seen your face
if you had not come."
While he was speaking, Ramona had buried her face in his bosom.
Lifting it now, she said, "Did you mean to leave me to think you
were dead, Alessandro?"
"I thought that the news about our village must have reached you,"
he said, "and that you would know I had no home, and could not
come, to seem to remind you of what you had said. Oh, Senorita, it
was little enough I had before to give you! I don't know how I
dared to believe that you could come to be with me; but I loved
you so much, I had thought of many things I could do; and --"
lowering his voice and speaking almost sullenly -- "it is the saints,
I believe, who have punished me thus for having resolved to leave
my people, and take all I had for myself and you.


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