"Oh! yes, yes," cried Nela half-crazed. "I must be beautiful—I must be lovely!"
"Listen," said Pablo, "I have a presentiment, a sure anticipation. It is as though the voice of God within me promised me that I should have my sight, that I shall see you, that we shall be happy. Do you not feel it yourself?"
"I—yes, I feel sure you will see...."
"I shall see your face—what happiness!" cried the blind boy in the high-pitched ecstatic tone, which was peculiar to him in moments of excitement.—"But I see it already, I see it now in my heart as plainly as the truth in my soul."
"Yes, yes, oh! yes," Nela repeated wildly, with wide-open eyes and quivering lips. "It is true, I am, I must be, beautiful!"
"Bless you, sweet one!"
"And you," she said gravely, kissing his forehead. "Now, are you not sleepy?"
"Yes, I am beginning to be sleepy. I did not sleep all night. And I am so comfortable here."
"Then sleep, my child...."
And she began to sing a lullaby. In a few minutes he was asleep; but Nela sat listening to the voice of La Trascava, which said: "Daughter come ... daughter come."