As I withdrew my contracted hands from the iron bars I felt the pressure of hers, and I heard a compressed laugh, which entirely confused me.
“Bravo, bravo? I like you so, my dear! I was becoming weary of so much sweetness!”
“What does this mean, Gloria?”
“It means that you must not be so honey-like, for one gets tired of syrup, and incense is sickening. See here! You have advanced your cause more in one moment by saying impudent things to me, than in three months of flatteries. You will say that I like to have my knuckles rapped with the fire-shovel. It may be so. But I tell you that a little touch of genius never hurts a man!”
“Yes? Then wait a bit, and I will insult you some more,” said I, laughing.
“No, no,” she exclaimed, also laughing, “enough for to-day.”
During that sweet and memorable interview, which was prolonged till one o’clock, our love was mutually confessed and agreed upon. Without any difficulty we began to address each other with the familiar “thee” and “thou,” and we swore fidelity till death, no matter what might happen.
Not a soul passed through the street. The watchman, when he saw me glued to the grating, did not come near. I was afraid that Doña Tula might come into the room, but Gloria re-assured me by declaring that in Seville no one ever acted traitorously towards two lovers, and the watchmen still less interfered with these colloquies at the gratings, which they saw every night. She also had great confidence in the servants. Therefore the prospect of a series of delightful interviews was spread before us, filling my soul with joy.
“They will know about it sooner or later,” said she. “But suppose they do. I will take it upon me to make them mind their own business if they attempt to interfere.”
And in her handsome eyes I saw a flash of audacious mischief, which made it plain enough that it would not be an easy matter to lead her in paths where she did not wish to go.