"Need I be plainer? You know my heart. You have read me. You understand how I have throttled my longings and remained mute while all my being called to you."
Alaire withdrew a step, and her cheeks colored with anger. "General!" she exclaimed, with some difficulty, "I am amazed. This is no time—" Her indignation rose with the sound of her own voice, causing her to stammer.
Taking advantage of her loss of words, he hurried on: "You must pardon my impetuosity, but I am a man of tremendous force, and my life moves swiftly. I am not shackled by conventions—they are less than nothing to me. If it seems to you that my eagerness carries me away, remember that war is upon us and that affairs of moment press me so that I am compelled to move like the lightning. With me, señora, a day is a year. The past is gone, the present is here, the future rushes forward to meet us."
"Indeed, you forget yourself," she said, warmly. Then, changing her tone: "I too must act quickly. I must go back at once."
"Oh, but I have told you only a part of what I came to say."
"Surely the rest can wait." Her voice was vibrant with contempt. "I'm in no condition to listen to anything else."
But Longorio insisted. "Wait! It is impossible for you to leave here."
Alaire stared at him incredulously.
"It is true. Mexico is a seething caldron of hate; the country is convulsed. It would be unsafe for you."
"Do you mean to say that war has been declared?"