DOÑA LAURA. Pass me the book, please. [_takes book, reads aloud._] "Twenty years have passed. He returns. And each upon beholding the other exclaims--Can it be possible that this is he? Merciful heavens, can this be she?" [_Doña Laura returns book to Don Gonzalo._] DON GONZALO. Indeed, you are to be envied for your wonderful eyesight. DOÑA LAURA [_aside_]. I knew the lines from memory. DON GONZALO. I am very fond of good verse, very fond. I even composed some in my youth. DOÑA LAURA. Good ones? DON GONZALO. Of all kinds. I was a great friend of Espronceda, Zorrilla, Becquer and others. I first met Zorrilla in America. DOÑA LAURA. Why, have you been in America? DON GONZALO. Several times. The first time I went I was only six years old. DOÑA LAURA. Columbus must have carried you in one of his caravels. DON GONZALO [_laughing_]. Not quite as bad as that. I am old, I admit, but I did not know Ferdinand and Isabella. [_They both laugh._] I was also a great friend of Campoamor. I met him in Valencia. I am a native of that city. DOÑA LAURA. You are? DON GONZALO. I was brought up there and there I spent my early youth. Have you ever visited that city? DOÑA LAURA. Yes, Señor. Not far from Valencia there was a mansion that if still there, should retain memories of me. I spent there several seasons. This was many, many years ago. It was near the sea, concealed among lemon and orange trees. They called it--let me see, what did they call it?--"Maricela." DON GONZALO [_startled_]. Maricela? DOÑA LAURA. Maricela. Is the name familiar to you? DON GONZALO. Yes, very familiar. If my memory serves me right, for we forget as we grow old, there lived in that mansion the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and I assure you I have seen a few. Let me see--what was her name? Laura--Laura--Laura Lorente. DOÑA LAURA [_startled_]. Laura Lorente? DON GONZALO. Yes. [_They look at each other strangely._] DOÑA LAURA [_recovering herself_]. Nothing. You reminded me of my best friend. DON GONZALO. How strange! DOÑA LAURA. It is strange. She was called "The Silver Maiden." DON GONZALO. Precisely, "The Silver Maiden." By that name she was known in that locality. I seem to see her as if she were before me now, at that window of the red roses. Do you remember that window? DOÑA LAURA. Yes, I remember. It was that of her room. DON GONZALO. She spent many hours there. I mean in my days. DOÑA LAURA [_sighing_]. And in mine, too. DON GONZALO. She was ideal. Fair as a lily, jet black hair and black eyes, with a very sweet expression. She seemed to cast a radiance wherever she was. Her figure was beautiful, perfect. "What forms of sovereign beauty God models in human sculpture!" She was a dream. DOÑA LAURA [_aside_]. If you but knew that dream was now by your side, you would realize what dreams are worth. [_Aloud_.] She was very unfortunate and had a sad love affair. DON GONZALO. Very sad. [_They look at each other._] DOÑA LAURA. You know of it?