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Part IIFerdinand rode his Model T Ford through the city, up into the mountains, to the valley pastures noisily southeast catching the wind from the hillsMany times he wanted Joana to show him some new beauty within the valley, the river or perhaps the old warrior sitesQuickly they rode through the bleak cobblestone passages, elbows touching, winds whistling, black shaded areas following as if a shadow was caught on the back of the car (areas to the side of the lower hills, smothered with undergrowth)There was a dotted beauty to the black, gray and white substances mixed into the layers of rock, gleaming from the rays of the sunAnd then they found her father’s cottage, in a quiet valley among the mountains, the winds still echoing as they seeped through the passages,Now gazing quietly, he turned to Joana; she returned his look, both looking at the cottage and the valley mountains (each other)Saw the tips of the immense mountains possessing the entire valley, enveloping it, as a mother guarding her childThey could see the barn-roof and red shingle-stone house roof Like a ship anchored off shore; he thought now of Joana. Towards twilight he and she drove to the house; Manual Was leaving it and young Ferdinand said, “Listen, Joana, We’ve had nice times together and drove all day. I’m tired; I don’t wish to see any of our friends this weekend. Tell them to stay away.” “Of course,” said the other “as you wish, but I shall only tell it to your friends, do you think my mind is not well yet, think again?” Ferdinand drove down the embankment, to the cottage She, wondering why his face was quivering A jerk, contracting almost, with red anger; Joana Wondered why he got out of the car and went Directly into the cottage without a word spoken Straight faced and squinting eyes Could it be: jealousy or passiveness in him; her father Met her at the door, she told him the news of their Distressful night caught between the tides. Assured him, Ferdinand was faithful, did not Abandon her, nor take advantage of her— “There is a fest at ‘Pablo’s Inn,’ this evening, You’ll enjoy it, you and Ferdinand,” he said thinking she’d go to it “Go down the valley, Joana, drive the car slow, have a good time,” he added. “But he doesn’t want to go this evening, or any evening, I believe he wants me all to himself!” “Better you go to the fest down in the valley, lest you, you put your young life in a box “The devil’s in the box, Joana, the devil,” then her Father lit the oil lamp, on the table, “just an old man’s words, come winter you will be in the house, save there is no other place to be. Make your life pleasant, if you squabble now, how will it be when you are old?” The old man Smiling at her, “Let him daydream, go live!”
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