Then I began to think of all the people I had
recently mixed with: the angry magistrate and his fat wife--horrid
woman!--and Marcos Marco, that shabby rascal, rose up before me to
pass quickly away, and once more I was face to face with that lovely
mystery Margarita. In imagination I put forth my hands to take hers,
and drew her towards me so as to look more closely into her eyes,
vainly questioning them as to their pure sapphire hue. Then I imagined
or dreamt that with trembling fingers I unbraided her hair to let it
fall like a splendid golden mantle over her mean dress, and asked her
how she came to possess that garment of glory. The sweet, grave, child
lips smiled, but returned no answer. Then a shadowy face seemed to
shape itself dimly against the green curtain of foliage, and, looking
over the fair girl's shoulder, gaze sadly into my eyes. It was the
face of Paquita. Ah, sweet wife, never let the green-eyed monster
trouble the peace of your heart! Know that the practical Saxon mind
of your husband is puzzling itself over a purely scientific problem,
that this surpassingly fair child interests me only because her fairness
seems to upset all physiological laws. I was, in fact, just sinking
to sleep at this moment when the shrill note of a trumpet blown close
by and followed by loud shouts from several voices made me spring
instantly to my feet.
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