I need to be loved and Gabriel has despised me. I need to be happy and cannot because Gabriel, my Gabriel, is offended. He has repulsed me, he has refused my caresses, he has not cared for my kisses. I desire to be happy as this sparrow, graceful and coquettish, which nests in this orange tree. How she chirps and flutters her wings when she sees her mate coming. I cannot forget what took place that night. Never did I love him more, never! I was going to confess all to him, repentant, resolved to end completely with Alberto, to say to Gabriel: “I did this; pardon me! Are you noble, generous, do you love me? Pardon me! I do not covet riches, nor conveniences, nor elegance. Are you poor? Poor, I love you. Are you of humble birth? So, I love you! Pardon me, Gabriel! See how I adore you! I have erred--I have offended you--I forgot that my heart was yours. Take pity on this poor orphan, who has no one to counsel her. Pardon me! You are good, very good, are you not? Forget all, forget it, Gabriel. See, I am worthy of you. I do not love this man; I do not love him. I told him I loved him because I did not know what to do. I let him give me a kiss because I could not prevent it. Forgive me! And he appears to be of iron. He showed himself haughty, proud, and cruel as a tiger. But, he was right; he loved me, and I had offended him. One kiss? Yes--and what is a kiss? Air, nothing! I wanted to calm his annoyance, sweetly, with my caresses, and I could not. Weeping, I begged him to pardon me, and he refused. I said to him--resolved to all--what more could I do?--I said to him, here you have me--I am yours--do with me what you will! And, he remained mute, reserved, did not look at me. He did not see me; he did not speak to me, but I read distrust, contempt, restrained rage, in his face. He almost insulted me. If he had not loved me so much, I believe he would have killed me! Again I tried to conquer him with my caresses. I wished to give him a kiss--and he repulsed me! Ah, Gabriel! How much you deceive yourself! How self-satisfied you are! You are poor, of humble birth, an artisan--and you have the pride of a king! Thus I love you, thus I have loved you. Haughty, proud, indomitable, thus I would wish you for my love! I would have softened your character; I would have dominated your pride; I would have conquered you with my kisses. You love me, but my tears have not moved you! You are strong and boast of your strength, for which I adore you! You are generous, and yet you do not know how to pardon a weak woman! And we would have been happy. One word from you and nothing more! If it were still possible--and--why not?” * * * * *