He remained talking with her however. Lucia, you will come to love me and all the blessings of the Lord that marriage brings. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. Why did he care? “I could never marry a girl who’s not a virgin. “I will not rob you of your coffee, most dutiful of sisters!” she exclaimed. He was always word-building, a metaphorist, lavish with singing adjectives; but often he built in confusion because it was difficult to describe something beautiful in a new yet simple way. She felt her heartbeat accelerate until it was pounding her chest. “This life is killing me! Oh, it is dull, dull, dull!” Suddenly an idea seemed to strike her.
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