forever. She who is here is named...
Luna. Sweet Lunita, beautiful Lunita. Off with you, _Huerco_, begone!
She whom you seek is not here."

For some time she was calm, then her returning fears made her speak
again to her importunate, lugubrious guest. There he was again! She
could feel his presence.

"_Huerco_, I tell you you're mistaken! Horabuena is gone; look for her
elsewhere. Only Luna is here. Sweet Lunita, precious Lunita."

And so great was her insistence that at last she succeeded in deceiving
_Huerco_ with her entreating, humble voice, although it is true that, to
give an air of truth to the deceit, on the following day, at a synagogue
ceremony, the name of Horabuena was changed to that of Luna.

Aguirre listened to these revelations with the same interest as that
with which he would read a novel about a far-off, exotic land that he
was never to behold.

It was on this same morning that the consul revealed the proposal which
for several days he had guarded in his thoughts, afraid to express it.
Why not love each other? Why not be sweethearts? There was something
providential about the way the two had met; they should not fail to take
advantage of the fate which had brought them together. To have become
acquainted! To have met, despite the difference of countries and of
races!...

Luna protested, but her protest was a smiling one. What madness!
Sweethearts? Why? They could not marry; they were of different faiths.
Besides, he had to leave. But Aguirre interrupted resolutely:

"Don't reason. Just close your eyes. In love there should be no
reflection. Good sense and the conventionalities are for persons who
don't love each other. Say yes, and afterwards time and our good luck
will arrange everything."

Luna laughed, amused by Aguirre's grave countenance and the vehemence of
his speech.

"Sweethearts in the Spanish fashion?... Believe me, I am tempted to
assent. You will go off and forget me, just as you've doubtless
forgotten others; and I'll be left cherishing the remembrance of you.
Excellent. We'll see each other every day and will chat about our
affairs. Serenades are not possible here, nor can you place your cape at
my feet without being considered crazy. But that doesn't matter. We'll
be sweethearts; I should love to see what it's like."

She laughed as she spoke, with her eyes closed, just like a child to
whom a pleasant game has been proposed. Soon she opened her eyes wide,
as if something f