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standing absorbed in filial devotion before the monument of Don Jose Avellanos, hidden from our eyes in the darkness of the Placid Gulf.

That’s why I long sometimes for another glimpse of the “beautiful Antonia” (or can it be the Other?) moving in the dimness of the great cathedral,ay the final good-bye I received a hand-squeeze that made my heart leap and4bsd saw a tear that took my breath away. She was softened at the last as though she had suddenly perceived (we were such children still!) that I was really going away for good, goind4bsg very far away — even as far as Sulaco, and, lying unknown, saying a short prayer at the tomb of the first and last Cardinal-Archbishop of Sulaco, tender, with a lingering, faithd4bsful g,