transformed the torpor of digestion into poetic lassitude.
"How charming is the chirp of the crickets! I adore starry nights, the rustic life of the country, so healthy and happy! …"
“But it is very lonely. …" ventured Zilda.
"Do you think so! Do you prefer the strident song of the cicada tuning up in the bright sunshine?” said he in a mellifluous voice. “Then it must be that some shadow darkens your little heart."
Moreira seeing that sentimentalism was coming into play and in this way liable to lead to matrimonial consequences, slapped his forehead and cried out: "The devil! If I wasn't forgetting all about…" He fled precipitately, leaving the two alone.
The dialogue continued, all honey and roses.
"You are a poet!” exclaimed Zilda at one of his sweetest warblings.
"Who would not be, beneath the stars of the heavens and beside a star of the earth?"
"Poor me!" sighed the girl, her heart beating fast.
From Trancoso's heart also rose a sigh. He lifted his eyes to a cloud that took the place of the Milky Way in the sky and he murmured a soliloquy strong enough to bring a girl to terms:
"Love! … the Milky Way of Life! The perfume of roses, the vail of dawn! To love, and listen to the stars… Love, for only he who loves can understand what they say!"
It was sour contraband wine; but to the girl's inexperienced palate it tasted like Lachryma Christi. Zilda felt the fumes go to
