"I don't know."
She sat thoughtful for a few moments. Then, as if she were talking to herself, she said in a dull voice:
"The day that Emilio and I were married he was at my house from the hour of the ceremony until I went to change my dress. We were going to Madrid to spend a few days. When I came down, I stumbled upon him waiting for me on the stairs. He made some gallant speeches to me at that time, and begged a spray of my orange flowers, which he put next his heart. I gave it to him against my will, from bashfulness, from timidity. He was repulsive to me from the first moment. Later, when we were at the station, and he came to give me his hand for good-by, he said, almost in my ear, 'If some day it chances that you get tired of him, remember that he has friends who admire you as much or more than he does.'"
"What insolence!"
"I did not like to say anything to my husband then; I have not wished to since. The friendship that united them was strong, and I hesitated to break it. How many times since then I have asked myself if I did right or wrong!"
"And before that he had not addressed you especially?"
"Yes, and no. Once we were at Denia. Castell was there, and I danced with him at a ball at the house of some friends; it was several months before I knew Emilio. That evening he made a little love to me and almost declared himself. I took that for what it was, the diversion of a traveller who does everything he can think of to keep from being bored. And, indeed, he left Denia, and Spain, and spent nearly two years in travelling. When he came back, I was going to be married to Emilio. It was only a fortnight before the wedding."
"Providence has been cruel placing such a man in your pathway, and giving him power to cause you so much trouble."
She did not answer. She remained thoughtful for a while; at last, looking at me with her great eyes full of interest, said:
"But you are so very, very good, Ribot. Don't let us talk any more about my troubles, but think of those that you have to bear."