human
the aerial plants, and the many other adornments of the terrace. Maria and Crisµstomo were there, alone together for the first time since his return. They began with charming futilities, so sweet to those who understand, so meaningless to others. She is sister to Cain, a little jealous; she says to her lover:
gpt
Did you never forget me among the many beautiful women you have seen?
human
Could I ever forget you! he answered, gazing into the dark eyes.
gpt
Your remembrance made powerless that lotus flower, Europe, which steeps out of the memory of many of my countrymen the hopes and wrongs of our land. It seemed as if the spirit, the poetic incarnation of my country was you, frank and lovely daughter of the Philippines! My love for you and that for her fused in one.
human
I know only your pueblo, Manila and Antipolo, replied the young girl, radiant;
gpt
Your sage leaves,
human
Hands off! as he reached out for it,
gpt
My letter of good-by?
human
Have you written me any others, seþor mio?
gpt
What is in it?
human
Lots of fibs, excuses of a bad debtor, she laughed.
gpt
If you're good I will read it to you, suppressing the gallantries, though, so you won't suffer too much.
human
; and she ran her eyes over several lines.
gpt
In spite of my prayers, I must go. 'You are no longer a boy,' my father said, 'you must think of the future. You have to learn things your own country cannot teach you, if you would be useful to her some day. What, almost a man and I see you in tears?' Upon that I confessed my love for you. He was silent, then placing his hand on my shoulder he said in a voice full of emotion: 'Do you think you alone know how to love; that it costs your father nothing to let you go away from him? It is not long since we lost your mother, and I am growing old, yet I accept my solitude and run the risk of never seeing you again. For you the future opens, for me it shuts; the fire of youth is yours, frost touches me, and it is you who weep, you who do not know how to sacrifice the present to a to-morrow good for you and for your country.
human
What is it? You are ill!
gpt
With you I have forgotten my duty; I should be on my way to the pueblo. To-morrow is the Feast of the Dead.
human
Go, she said, and her voice was deep and sweet;
gpt
I keep you no longer. In a few days we shall see each other again. Put these flowers on your father's grave.
human
Come, come, said he, to console her;