The Beautiful Eyes of Ysidria by Charles A. Gunnison
page 25 of 41 (60%)
page 25 of 41 (60%)
|
was something so unnatural, so weird about her actions, that I felt as
if I were gazing upon a being from another world. Her eyes were brighter than ever before, but in them was no sight for what was near her; they seemed fixed upon objects far away. I could not speak, for when I tried to utter her name my voice refused to come, so I turned and went sorrowful and puzzled back to my home. The suspense I endured was almost unbearable. By the afternoon I went again to the Madre's house, and with strange forebodings knocked at the door, which was answered by Ysidria; she seemed to be completely recovered from her late mysterious attack, nor did she allude to anything having occurred during the morning out of the usual course, excepting that she twitted me for not keeping my engagement with her. She laughed as she took her reboso from the table, saying that she was out of patience, and that I must take the walk with her as punishment. I, of course said nothing of my morning visit, or what I had witnessed, but it troubled me greatly all the afternoon. We walked and talked, and now my good friends thank me for not reporting that conversation; it was fascinating, and even now I think there were glintings of common sense in it, but really not enough to warrant the extra type setting, (for which my publishers charge outrageously), required to give it. It was the same sort of thing you talked last summer with Guadaloupe at Catalina Island, Morris, and the same you talked with Vinnie in the Sierras, George, and the same you talked with all the girls in the States last year, Dickey. You don't want to hear it again, and I must cut expenses somewhere. It is enough to say, that though nothing was said, both Ysidria and I |
|