Sebastião bit his trembling lip in silence; two tears rolled down his cheeks, and rising slowly,—
“But why did you not tell me this before?” he said.
“I could not, Sebastião. I was on the point of telling you once, but I could not.”
“You were wrong.”
“This morning Jorge wanted to dismiss her. He has observed her neglect of her duties, and he is displeased with her, but he suspects nothing,” she added, flushing, and turning away her eyes. “He has often scolded me for taking her part, but to-day he grew angry, and told her to leave the house. No sooner was he gone than she came to me like a fury, and began to insult me.”
“Good God!” murmured Sebastião, in amazement, pressing his head between his hands.
“Perhaps you will not believe, Sebastião, that it is I who throw out the sweepings.”
“But that vile creature deserves death!” he exclaimed, stamping his foot on the floor. He took a few turns up and down the room with his hands in his pockets, his head sunk between his broad shoulders; then he returned to his seat beside her, and touching her timidly on the arm, said in a low voice, “Those letters must be got from her.”
“But how?”
Sebastião scratched his beard and then his head.