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Jackson, Helen Hunt, 1830-1885

"Ramona"

Again she started to
meet him; again he made the same authoritative gesture to her to
return; and again she seated herself, trembling in every nerve of
her body. Ramona was now sometimes afraid of Alessandro. When
these fierce glooms seized him, she dreaded, she knew not what.
He seemed no more the Alessandro she had loved.
Deliberately, lingeringly, he unharnessed the horses and put them
in the corral. Then still more deliberately, lingeringly, he walked
to the house; walked, without speaking, past Ramona, into the
door. A lurid spot on each cheek showed burning red through the
bronze of his skin. His eyes glittered. In silence Ramona followed
him, and saw him draw from his pocket a handful of gold-pieces,
fling them on the table, and burst into a laugh more terrible than
any weeping,-- a laugh which wrung from her instantly,
involuntarily, the cry, "Oh, my Alessandro! my Alessandro! What
is it? Are you mad?"
"No, my sweet Majel," he exclaimed, turning to her, and flinging
his arms round her and the child together, drawing them so close
to his breast that the embrace hurt,-- "no, I am not mad; but I think
I shall soon be! What is that gold? The price of this house, Majel,
and of the fields,-- of all that was ours in San Pasquale!
To-morrow we will go out into the world again.


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