"Yes, my child," said the former, "but we are far from the villa, the sun
is setting--it is growing late."

"Yes, yes," said Juana, "let us go back."

Berta drew her father affectionately toward her and said:

"Dear father, I am not mad. Juana, I am not mad. Adrian promised me that
he would return, and he will return. I am waiting for him. Why should that
be madness? I know that I grieve you, and I do not wish to grieve you. I
have begged God a thousand times on my knees to tear his image from my
heart and his memory from my mind; but God, who sees all things, from whom
nothing is hidden, to whom all things are possible, has not wished to do
it. Why? He alone knows."

The father's eyes filled with tears, and the nurse hid her face in her
hands to keep back the sobs that rose in her throat.

Berta continued:

"Yes, it is growing late. But I am very tired. Let us wait a moment."

They had nothing to say in answer to her words, nor could they have said
anything, for their voices failed them.

All three remained silent.

Suddenly they looked at one another with indescribable anxiety, for all
three had heard a sigh, a human sigh that seemed exhaled by the ruins
around them.