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big sow you have grown to be. When were you kind tome? When did you speak to Don Abrahan to spare my Liseta her long days on the hills with the goats?"

"Ah, but you will hide me from the savage Americans, good Cecilia—I will give you my earrings—here, here—good little Cecilia!"

"There were times when I stood by the road in the rain, and you passed in the carriage with no recollection of other years. When my Man'el died—and he was my husband; we were married by the priest—I did not feel your hand on my sad head. Now, when you need a friend, oh what a tender heart!"

"They are pointing the cannon toward the mansion, ready to fire. I cannot hide there, I cannot hide there! But here, pretty Cecilia——"

"You betrayed Don Gabriel; your false tongue killed John Toberman, who never kept man or woman in slavery for a debt. It was your fat tongue, licking lies, that sent that white dove Helena to stand in the plaza before the soldiers' guns. Let the rope be a strong one that Don Gabriel puts around your neck!"

Doña Carlota forgot her station, her dignity. She precipitated herself to her knees, debasing hidalgo blood as it never had been humbled before, lifting appealing hands to the half-Indian peon woman, who drew back from her in disdain.

"Here are the rings from my fingers, the chain from my neck, my rosary—it has pearls——"