and not ultimately interesting to her.
In the morning, Teresa appeared alone to breakfast. She seemed very calm, hiding her emotions in her odd, brown, proud little way.
“How is Ramón?” said Kate.
“He is sleeping,” said Teresa.
“Good! He seemed to me almost done up, last night.”
“Yes.”—The black eyes looked at Kate, wide with unshed tears and courage, and a beautiful deep, remote light.
“I don’t believe in a man’s sacrificing himself in this way,” said Kate. “And I don’t.”
Teresa still looked her full in the eyes.
“Ah!” she said. “He doesn’t sacrifice himself. He feels he must do as he does. And if he must, I must help him.”
“But then you are sacrificing yourself to him, and I don’t believe in that either,” said Kate.
“Oh, no!” replied Teresa quickly, and a little flush burned in her