"No; only a little while," said the girl, sitting up.
"And why didn't you sit up?"
"Because I was afraid of disturbing you if I moved."
"But how much I would rather have had you wake me! Don't you know that I have been wanting to talk with you?"
And the young couple began to converse in such low voices that they divined rather than heard each other's words; all the time, the Cuervo sisters, their brother, and Juana were sleeping in various and original positions. What did they talk about? They themselves did not know: words have a conventional value, and all of theirs, without a single exception, expressed the same idea.
Miguel, cautious of speaking about themselves, because he noticed that it embarrassed Maximina, turned the conversation to some pleasing subject and tried to make her laugh, so that her natural bashfulness might wear away. Nevertheless, he took the risk of once asking her, with a keen glance:—
"Are you happy?"
"Yes."
"Aren't you sorry that you are mine?"
"Oh, no! If you only knew!..."