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Atherton, Gertrude Franklin Horn, 1857-1948

"The Doomswoman An Historical Romance of Old California"

Valencia, to his mind, was the handsomest
woman in the room, and he felt the flattery of her assault. Besides,
he was safely married. So he drifted to her side, danced with her,
flirted with her, devoted himself to her caprices, until every one was
noting, and I thought that Prudencia would bawl outright. Just in the
moment, however, when our nerves were humming, Don Guillermo thumped
on the door with his stick and ordered us all to go to bed.


XIX.

The next morning we started at an early hour for the Rancho de las
Rocas, three leagues from Santa Barbara. The populace remained in the
booth, but we were joined by all our friends of the town, and once
more were a large party. We were bound for a merienda and a carnesada,
where bullocks would be roasted whole on spits over a bed of coals in
a deep excavation. It took a Californian only a few hours to sleep
off fatigue, and we were as fresh and gay as if we had gone to bed at
eight the night before.
Valencia managed to ride beside Estenega, and I wondered if she
would win him. Woman's persistence, allied to man's vanity, so often
accomplishes the result intended by the woman. It seemed to me the
simplest climax for the unfolding drama, although I should have been
sorry for Diego.
It was Reinaldo's turn to look black, but he devoted himself
ostentatiously to Prudencia, who beamed like a child with a stick of
candy.


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