Don Pius V Loayza died when his son was ten years old. Although he always took care of hisexpenses in secret, he never recognised him as his son before the law, nor did he leave him withhis future secure, so that Florentino Ariza used only his mother's name even though his trueparentage was always common knowledge. Florentino Ariza had to leave school after his father'sdeath, and he went to work as an apprentice5 in the Postal6 Agency, where he was in charge ofopening sacks, sorting the letters, and notifying the public that mail had arrived by flying the flagof its country of origin over the office door.
His good sense attracted the attention of the telegraph operator, the German閙 igr?LotarioThugut, who also played the organ for important ceremonies in the Cathedral and gave musiclessons in the home. Lotario Thugut taught him the Morse code and the workings of the telegraphsystem, and after only a few lessons on the violin Florentino Ariza could play by ear like aprofessional. When he met Fermina Daza he was the most sought-after young man in his socialcircle, the one who knew how to dance the latest dances and recite sentimental7 poetry by heart,and who was always willing to play violin serenades to his friends' sweethearts. He was very thin,with Indian hair plastered down with scented8 pomade and eyeglasses for myopia, which added tohis forlorn appearance. Aside from his defective10 vision, he suffered from chronic11 constipation,which forced him to take enemas throughout his life. He had one black suit, inherited from hisdead father, but Tr醤sito Ariza took such good care of it that every Sunday it looked new. Despitehis air of weakness, his reserve, and his sombre clothes, the girls in his circle held secret lotteriesto determine who would spend time with him, and he gambled on spending time with them untilthe day he met Fermina Daza and his innocence14 came to an end.
He had seen her for the first time one afternoon when Lotario Thugut told him to deliver atelegram to someone named Lorenzo Daza, with no known place of residence. He found him inone of the oldest houses on the Park of the Evangels; it was half in ruins, and its interior patio12,with weeds in the flowerpots and a stone fountain with no water, resembled an abbey cloister15.
Florentino Ariza heard no human sound as he followed the barefoot maid under the arches of thepassageway, where unopened moving cartons and bricklayer's tools lay among leftover16 lime andstacks of cement bags, for the house was undergoing drastic renovation17. At the far end of the patio was a temporary office where a very fat man, whose curly sideburns grew into his moustache, satbehind a desk, taking his siesta18. In fact his name was Lorenzo Daza, and he was not very wellknown in the city because he had arrived less than two years before and was not a man with manyfriends.
He received the telegram as if it were the continuation of an ominous19 dream. Florentino Arizaobserved his livid eyes with a kind of official compassion20, he observed his uncertain fingers tryingto break the seal, the heartfelt fear that he had seen so many times in so many addressees who stillcould not think about telegrams without connecting them with death. After reading it he regainedhis composure. He sighed: "Good news." And he handed Florentino Ariza the obligatory22 fivereales, letting him know with a relieved smile that he would not have given them to him if thenews had been bad. Then he said goodbye with a handshake, which was not the usual thing to dowith a telegraph messenger, and the maid accompanied him to the street door, more to keep an eyeon him than to lead the way. They retraced23 their steps along the arcaded24 passageway, but this timeFlorentino Ariza knew that there was someone else in the house, because the brightness in thepatio was filled with the voice of a woman repeating a reading lesson. As he passed the sewingroom, he saw through the window an older woman and a young girl sitting very close together ontwo chairs and following the reading in the book that the woman held open on her lap. It seemed astrange sight: the daughter teaching the mother to read. His interpretation26 was incorrect only inpart, because the woman was the aunt, not the mother of the child, although she had raised her asif she were her own. The lesson was not interrupted, but the girl raised her eyes to see who waspassing by the window, and that casual glance was the beginning of a cataclysm27 of love that stillhad not ended half a century later.
All that Florentino Ariza could learn about Lorenzo Daza was that he had come from SanJuan de la Ci閚 aga with his only daughter and his unmarried sister soon after the choleraepidemic, and those who saw him disembark had no doubt that he had come to stay since hebrought everything necessary for a well-furnished house. His wife had died when the girl was veryyoung. His sister, named Escol醩 tica, was forty years old, and she was fulfilling a vow29 to wearthe habit of St. Francis when she went out on the street and the penitent30's rope around her waistwhen she was at home. The girl was thirteen years old and had the same name as her dead mother:
Fermina.
It was supposed that Lorenzo Daza was a man of means, because he lived well with noknown employment and had paid hard cash for the Park of the Evangels house, whose restorationmust have cost him at least twice the purchase price of two hundred gold pesos. His daughter wasstudying at the Academy of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin31, where for two centuries youngladies of society had learned the art and technique of being diligent32 and submissive wives. Duringthe colonial period and the early years of the Republic, the school had accepted only thosestudents with great family names. But the old families, ruined by Independence, had to submit tothe realities of a new time, and the Academy opened its doors to all applicants33 who could pay thetuition, regardless of the colour of their blood, on the essential condition that they were legitimatedaughters of Catholic marriages. In any event, it was an expensive school, and the fact thatFermina Daza studied there was sufficient indication of her family's economic situation, if not ofits social position. This news encouraged Florentino Ariza, since it indicated to him that thebeautiful adolescent with the almond-shaped eyes was within reach of his dreams. But her father's strict regime soon provided an irremediable difficulty. Unlike the other students, who walked toschool in groups or accompanied by an older servant, Fermina Daza always walked with herspinster aunt, and her behaviour indicated that she was permitted no distraction35.
It was in this innocent way that Florentino Ariza began his secret life as a solitary36 hunter.
From seven o'clock in the morning, he sat on the most hidden bench in the little park, pretendingto read a book of verse in the shade of the almond trees, until he saw the impossible maiden37 walkby in her blue-striped uniform, stockings that reached to her knees, masculine laced oxfords, and asingle thick braid with a bow at the end, which hung down her back to her waist. She walked withnatural haughtiness38, her head high, her eyes unmoving, her step rapid, her nose pointing straightahead, her bag of books held against her chest with crossed arms, her doe's gait making her seemimmune to gravity. At her side, struggling to keep up with her, the aunt with the brown habit andrope of St. Francis did not allow him the slightest opportunity to approach. Florentino Ariza sawthem pass back and forth39 four times a day and once on Sundays when they came out of HighMass, and just seeing the girl was enough for him. Little by little he idealised her, endowing herwith improbable virtues40 and imaginary sentiments, and after two weeks he thought of nothing elsebut her. So he decided42 to send Fermina Daza a simple note written on both sides of the paper in hisexquisite notary's hand. But he kept it in his pocket for several days, thinking about how to hand itto her, and while he thought he wrote several more pages before going to bed, so that the originalletter was turning into a dictionary of compliments, inspired by books he had learned by heartbecause he read them so often during his vigils in the park.
Searching for a way to give her the letter, he tried to make the acquaintance of some of theother students at Presentation Academy, but they were too distant from his world. Besides, aftermuch thought, it did not seem prudent44 to let anyone else know of his intentions. Still, he managedto find out that Fermina Daza had been invited to a Saturday dance a few days after their arrival inthe city, and her father had not allowed her to go, with a conclusive45: "Everything in due course."By the time the letter contained more than sixty pages written on both sides, Florentino Arizacould no longer endure the weight of his secret, and he unburdened himself to his mother, the onlyperson with whom he allowed himself any confidences. Tr醤sito Ariza was moved to tears by herson's innocence in matters of love, and she tried to guide him with her own knowledge. She beganby convincing him not to deliver the lyrical sheaf of papers, since it would only frighten the girl ofhis dreams, who she supposed was as green as he in matters of the heart. The first step, she said,was to make her aware of his interest so that his declaration would not take her so much bysurprise and she would have time to think.
"But above all," she said, "the first person you have to win over is not the girl but her aunt."Both pieces of advice were wise, no doubt, but they came too late. In reality, on the day whenFermina Daza let her mind wander for an instant from the reading lesson she was giving her auntand raised her eyes to see who was walking along the passageway, Florentino Ariza had impressedher because of his air of vulnerability. That night, during supper, her father had mentioned thetelegram, which was how she found out why Florentino Ariza had come to the house and what hedid for a living. This information increased her interest, because for her, as for so many otherpeople at that time, the invention of the telegraph had something magical about it. So that sherecognised Florentino Ariza the first time she saw him reading under the trees in the little park,although it in no way disquieted47 her until her aunt told her he had been there for several weeks.
Then, when they also saw him on Sundays as they came out of Mass, her aunt was convinced thatall these meetings could not be casual. She said: "He is not going to all this trouble for me." Fordespite her austere48 conduct and penitential habit, Aunt Escol醩 tica had an instinct for life and avocation49 for complicity, which were her greatest virtues, and the mere50 idea that a man wasinterested in her niece awakened51 an irresistible52 emotion in her. Fermina Daza, however, was stillsafe from even simple curiosity about love, and the only feeling that Florentino Ariza inspired inher was a certain pity, because it seemed to her that he was sick. But her aunt told her that one hadto live a long time to know a man's true nature, and she was convinced that the one who sat in thepark to watch them walk by could only be sick with love.
Aunt Escol醩tica was a refuge of understanding and affection for the only child of a lovelessmarriage. She had raised her since the death of her mother, and in her relations with Lorenzo Dazashe behaved more like an accomplice54 than an aunt. So that the appearance of Florentino Ariza wasfor them another of the many intimate diversions they invented to pass the time. Four times a day,when they walked through the little Park of the Evangels, both hurried to look with a rapid glanceat the thin, timid, unimpressive sentinel who was almost always dressed in black despite the heatand who pretended to read under the trees. "There he is," said the one who saw him first,suppressing her laughter, before he raised his eyes and saw the two rigid55, aloof56 women of his lifeas they crossed the park without looking at him.
"Poor thing," her aunt had said. "He does not dare approach you because I am with you, butone day he will if his intentions are serious, and then he will give you a letter."Foreseeing all kinds of adversities, she taught her to communicate in sign language, anindispensable strategy in forbidden love. These unexpected, almost childish antics caused anunfamiliar curiosity in Fermina Daza, but for several months it did not occur to her that it could goany further. She never knew when the diversion became a preoccupation and her blood frothedwith the need to see him, and one night she awoke in terror because she saw him looking at herfrom the darkness at the foot of her bed. Then she longed with all her soul for her aunt'spredictions to come true, and in her prayers she begged God to give him the courage to hand herthe letter just so she could know what it said.
But her prayers were not answered. On the contrary. This occurred at the time that FlorentinoAriza made his confession57 to his mother, who dissuaded58 him from handing Fermina Daza hisseventy pages of compliments, so that she continued to wait for the rest of the year. Herpreoccupation turned into despair as the December vacation approached, and she asked herselfover and over again how she would see him and let him see her during the three months when shewould not be walking to school. Her doubts were still unresolved on Christmas Eve, when she wasshaken by the presentiment59 that he was in the crowd at Midnight Mass, looking at her, and thisuneasiness flooded her heart. She did not dare to turn her head, because she was sitting betweenher father and her aunt, and she had to control herself so that they would not notice her agitation60.
But in the crowd leaving the church she felt him so close, so clearly, that an irresistible powerforced her to look over her shoulder as she walked along the central nave61 and then, a hand'sbreadth from her eyes, she saw those icy eyes, that livid face, those lips petrified62 by the terror oflove. Dismayed by her own audacity63, she seized Aunt Escol醩 tica's arm so she would not fall,and her aunt felt the icy perspiration64 on her hand through the lace mitt34, and she comforted her withan imperceptible sign of unconditional65 complicity. In the din13 of fireworks and native drums, ofcoloured lights in the doorways66 and the clamour of the crowd yearning68 for peace, Florentino Arizawandered like a sleepwalker until dawn, watching the fiesta through his tears, dazed by thehallucination that it was he and not God who had been born that night.
His delirium69 increased the following week, when he passed Fermina Daza's house in despairat the siesta hour and saw that she and her aunt were sitting under the almond trees at the doorway67.
It was an open-air repetition of the scene he had witnessed the first afternoon in the sewing room:
the girl giving a reading lesson to her aunt. But Fermina Daza seemed different without the schooluniform, for she wore a narrow tunic70 with many folds that fell from her shoulders in the Greekstyle, and on her head she wore a garland of fresh gardenias71 that made her look like a crownedgoddess. Florentino Ariza sat in the park where he was sure he would be seen, and then he did nothave recourse to his feigned72 reading but sat with the book open and his eyes fixed73 on the illusorymaiden, who did not even respond with a charitable glance.
At first he thought that the lesson under the almond trees was a casual innovation due,perhaps, to the interminable repairs on the house, but in the days that followed he came tounderstand that Fermina Daza would be there, within view, every afternoon at the same timeduring the three months of vacation, and that certainty filled him with new hope. He did not havethe impression that he was seen, he could not detect any sign of interest or rejection74, but in herindifference there was a distinct radiance that encouraged him to persevere75. Then, one afternoontoward the end of January, the aunt put her work on the chair and left her niece alone in thedoorway under the shower of yellow leaves falling from the almond trees. Encouraged by theimpetuous thought that this was an arranged opportunity, Florentino Ariza crossed the street andstopped in front of Fermina Daza, so close to her that he could detect the catches in her breathingand the floral scent9 that he would identify with her for the rest of his life. He spoke76 with his headhigh and with a determination that would be his again only half a century later, and for the samereason.
"All I ask is that you accept a letter from me," he said.
It was not the voice that Fermina Daza had expected from him: it was sharp and clear, with acontrol that had nothing to do with his languid manner. Without lifting her eyes from herembroidery, she replied: "I cannot accept it without my father's permission." Florentino Arizashuddered at the warmth of that voice, whose hushed tones he was not to forget for the rest of hislife. But he held himself steady and replied without hesitation79: "Get it." Then he sweetened thecommand with a plea: "It is a matter of life and death." Fermina Daza did not look at him, she didnot interrupt her embroidering80, but her decision opened the door a crack, wide enough for theentire world to pass through.
"Come back every afternoon," she said to him, "and wait until I change my seat."Florentino Ariza did not understand what she meant until the following Monday when, fromthe bench in the little park, he saw the same scene with one variation: when Aunt Escol醩 ticawent into the house, Fermina Daza stood up and then sat in the other chair. Florentino Ariza, witha white camellia in his lapel, crossed the street and stood in front of her. He said: "This is thegreatest moment of my life." Fermina Daza did not raise her eyes to him, but she looked allaround her and saw the deserted81 streets in the heat of the dry season and a swirl82 of dead leavespulled along by the wind.
"Give it to me," she said.
Florentino Ariza had intended to give her the seventy sheets he could recite from memoryafter reading them so often, but then he decided on a sober and explicit83 half page in which hepromised only what was essential: his perfect fidelity84 and his everlasting85 love. He took the letterout of his inside jacket pocket and held it before the eyes of the troubled embroiderer86, who hadstill not dared to look at him. She saw the blue envelope trembling in a hand petrified with terror,and she raised the embroidery77 frame so he could put the letter on it, for she could not admit thatshe had noticed the trembling of his fingers. Then it happened: a bird shook himself among theleaves of the almond trees, and his droppings fell right on the embroidery. Fermina Daza movedthe frame out of the way, hid it behind the chair so that he would not notice what had happened,and looked at him for the first time, her face aflame. Florentino Ariza was impassive as he held theletter in his hand and said: "It's good luck." She thanked him with her first smile and almostsnatched the letter away from him, folded it, and hid it in her bodice. Then he offered her thecamellia he wore in his lapel. She refused: "It is a flower of promises." Then, conscious that theirtime was almost over, she again took refuge in her composure.
"Now go," she said, "and don't come back until I tell you to."After Florentino Ariza saw her for the first time, his mother knew before he told her becausehe lost his voice and his appetite and spent the entire night tossing and turning in his bed. Butwhen he began to wait for the answer to his first letter, his anguish87 was complicated by diarrhoeaand green vomit88, he became disoriented and suffered from sudden fainting spells, and his motherwas terrified because his condition did not resemble the turmoil89 of love so much as the devastationof cholera28. Florentino Ariza's godfather, an old homoeopathic practitioner90 who had been Tr醤sitoAriza's confidant ever since her days as a secret mistress, was also alarmed at first by the patient'scondition, because he had the weak pulse, the hoarse91 breathing, and the pale perspiration of adying man. But his examination revealed that he had no fever, no pain anywhere, and that his onlyconcrete feeling was an urgent desire to die. All that was needed was shrewd questioning, first ofthe patient and then of his mother, to conclude once again that the symptoms of love were thesame as those of cholera. He prescribed infusions92 of linden blossoms to calm the nerves andsuggested a change of air so he could find consolation93 in distance, but Florentino Ariza longed forjust the opposite: to enjoy his martyrdom.
Tr醤 sito Ariza was a freed quadroon whose instinct for happiness had been frustrated94 bypoverty, and she took pleasure in her son's suffering as if it were her own. She made him drink theinfusions when he became delirious95, and she smothered96 him in wool blankets to keep away thechills, but at the same time she encouraged him to enjoy his prostration97.
"Take advantage of it now, while you are young, and suffer all you can," she said to him,"because these things don't last your whole life."In the Postal Agency, of course, they did not agree. Florentino Ariza had become negligent,and he was so distracted that he confused the flags that announced the arrival of the mail, and oneWednesday he hoisted98 the German flag when the ship was from the Leyland Company and carriedthe mail from Liverpool, and on another day he flew the flag of the United States when the shipwas from the Compagnie G閚閞 ale Transatlantique and carried the mail from Saint-Nazaire.
These confusions of love caused such chaos99 in the distribution of the mail and provoked so manyprotests from the public that if Florentino Ariza did not lose his job it was because Lotario Thugutkept him at the telegraph and took him to play the violin in the Cathedral choir100. They had afriendship difficult to understand because of the difference in their ages, for they might have beengrandfather and grandson, but they got along at work as well as they did in the taverns101 around theport, which were frequented by everyone out for the evening regardless of social class, fromdrunken beggars to young gentlemen in tuxedos102 who fled the gala parties at the Social Club to eatfried mullet and coconut103 rice. Lotario Thugut was in the habit of going there after the last shift atthe telegraph office, and dawn often found him drinking Jamaican punch and playing theaccordion with the crews of madmen from the Antillean schooners105. He was corpulent and bull-necked, with a golden beard and a liberty cap that he wore when he went out at night, and all heneeded was a string of bells to look like St. Nicholas. At least once a week he ended the eveningwith a little night bird, as he called them, one of the many who sold emergency love in a transienthotel for sailors. When he met Florentino Ariza, the first thing he did, with a certain magisterialdelight, was to initiate106 him into the secrets of his paradise. He chose for him the little birds hethought best, he discussed their price and style with them and offered to pay in advance with hisown money for their services. But Florentino Ariza did not accept: he was a virgin, and he haddecided not to lose his virginity unless it was for love.
The hotel was a colonial palace that had seen better days, and its great marble salons107 androoms were divided into plasterboard cubicles109 with peepholes, which were rented out as much forwatching as for doing. There was talk of busybodies who had their eyes poked110 out with knittingneedles, of a man who recognised his own wife as the woman he was spying on, of well-bredgentlemen who came disguised as tarts111 to forget who they were with the boatswains on shoreleave, and of so many other misadventures of observers and observed that the mere idea of goinginto the next room terrified Florentino Ariza. And so Lotario Thugut could never persuade himthat watching and letting himself be watched were the refinements112 of European princes.
As opposed to what his corpulence might suggest, Lotario Thugut had the rosebud113 genitals ofa cherub114, but this must have been a fortunate defect, because the most tarnished115 birds argued overwho would have the chance to go to bed with him, and then they shrieked116 as if their throats werebeing cut, shaking the buttresses117 of the palace and making its ghosts tremble in fear. They said heused an ointment118 made of snake venom119 that inflamed120 women's loins, but he swore he had noresources other than those that God had given him. He would say with uproarious laughter: "It'spure love." Many years had to pass before Florentino Ariza would understand that perhaps he wasright. He was convinced at last, at a more advanced stage of his sentimental education, when hemet a man who lived like a king by exploiting three women at the same time. The three of themrendered their accounts at dawn, prostrate122 at his feet to beg forgiveness for their meagre profits,and the only gratification they sought was that he go to bed with the one who brought him themost money. Florentino Ariza thought that terror alone could induce such indignities123, but one ofthe three girls surprised him with the contradictory124 truth.
"These are things," she said, "you do only for love."It was not so much for his talents as a fornicator as for his personal charm that LotarioThugut had become one of the most esteemed125 clients of the hotel. Florentino Ariza, because hewas so quiet and elusive127, also earned the esteem126 of the owner, and during the most arduous128 periodof his grief he would lock himself in the suffocating129 little rooms to read verses and tearfulserialised love stories, and his reveries left nests of dark swallows on the balconies and the soundof kisses and the beating of wings in the stillness of siesta. At dusk, when it was cooler, it wasimpossible not to listen to the conversations of men who came to console themselves at the end oftheir day with hurried love. So that Florentino Ariza heard about many acts of disloyalty, and evensome state secrets, which important clients and even local officials confided130 to their ephemerallovers, not caring if they could be overheard in the adjoining rooms. This was also how he learnedthat four nautical131 leagues to the north of the Sotavento Archipelago, a Spanish galleon132 had beenlying under water since the eighteenth century with its cargo133 of more than five hundred billionpesos in pure gold and precious stones. The story astounded134 him, but he did not think of it againuntil a few months later, when his love awakened in him an overwhelming desire to salvage135 thesunken treasure so that Fermina Daza could bathe in showers of gold.
Years later, when he tried to remember what the maiden idealised by the alchemy of poetryreally was like, he could not distinguish her from the heartrending twilights of those times. Evenwhen he observed her, unseen, during those days of longing136 when he waited for a reply to his firstletter, he saw her transfigured in the afternoon shimmer137 of two o'clock in a shower of blossomsfrom the almond trees where it was always April regardless of the season of the year. The onlyreason he was interested in accompanying Lotario Thugut on his violin from the privilegedvantage point in the choir was to see how her tunic fluttered in the breeze raised by the canticles.
But his own delirium finally interfered138 with that pleasure, for the mystic music seemed soinnocuous compared with the state of his soul that he attempted to make it more exciting with lovewaltzes, and Lotario Thugut found himself obliged to ask that he leave the choir. This was the timewhen he gave in to his desire to eat the gardenias that Tr醤sito Ariza grew in pots in the patio, sothat he could know the taste of Fermina Daza. It was also the time when he happened to find inone of his mother's trunks a litre bottle of the cologne that the sailors from the Hamburg-AmericanLine sold as contraband139, and he could not resist the temptation to sample it in order to discoverother tastes of his beloved. He continued to drink from the bottle until dawn, and he became drunkon Fermina Daza in abrasive140 swallows, first in the taverns around the port and then as he staredout to sea from the jetties where lovers without a roof over their heads made consoling love, untilat last he succumbed142 to unconsciousness. Tr醤sito Ariza, who had waited for him until six o'clockin the morning with her heart in her mouth, searched for him in the most improbable hidingplaces, and a short while after noon she found him wallowing in a pool of fragrant143 vomit in a coveof the bay where drowning victims washed ashore144.
She took advantage of the hiatus of his convalescence145 to reproach him for his passivity as hewaited for the answer to his letter. She reminded him that the weak would never enter the kingdomof love, which is a harsh and ungenerous kingdom, and that women give themselves only to menof resolute146 spirit, who provide the security they need in order to face life. Florentino Ariza learnedthe lesson, perhaps too well. Tr醤 sito Ariza could not hide a feeling of pride, more carnal thanmaternal, when she saw him leave the notions shop in his black suit and stiff felt hat, his lyricalbow tie and celluloid collar, and she asked him as a joke if he was going to a funeral. Heanswered, his ears flaming: "It's almost the same thing." She realised that he could hardly breathewith fear, but his determination was invincible147. She gave him her final warnings and her blessing,and laughing for all she was worth, she promised him another bottle of cologne so they couldcelebrate his victory together.
He had given Fermina Daza the letter a month before, and since then he had often broken hispromise not to return to the little park, but he had been very careful not to be seen. Nothing hadchanged. The reading lesson under the trees ended at about two o'clock, when the city was wakingfrom its siesta, and Fermina Daza embroidered148 with her aunt until the day began to cool.
Florentino Ariza did not wait for the aunt to go into the house, and he crossed the street with amartial stride that allowed him to overcome the weakness in his knees, but he spoke to her aunt,not to Fermina Daza.
"Please be so kind as to leave me alone for a moment with the young lady," he said. "I havesomething important to tell her.""What impertinence!" her aunt said to him. "There is nothing that has to do with her that Icannot hear.""Then I will not say anything to her," he said, "but I warn you that you will be responsible forthe consequences."That was not the manner Escol醩tica Daza expected from the ideal sweetheart, but she stoodup in alarm because for the first time she had the overwhelming impression that Florentino Arizawas speaking under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. So she went into the house to changeneedles and left the two young people alone under the almond trees in the doorway.
In reality, Fermina Daza knew very little about this taciturn suitor who had appeared in herlife like a winter swallow and whose name she would not even have known if it had not been forhis signature on the letter. She had learned that he was the fatherless son of an unmarried womanwho was hardworking and serious but forever marked by the fiery150 stigma151 of her single youthfulmistake. She had learned that he was not a messenger, as she had supposed, but a well-qualifiedassistant with a promising152 future, and she thought that he had delivered the telegram to her fatheronly as a pretext153 for seeing her. This idea moved her. She also knew that he was one of themusicians in the choir, and although she never dared raise her eyes to look at him during Mass,she had the revelation one Sunday that while the other instruments played for everyone, the violinplayed for her alone. He was not the kind of man she would have chosen. His foundling'seyeglasses, his clerical garb154, his mysterious resources had awakened in her a curiosity that wasdifficult to resist, but she had never imagined that curiosity was one of the many masks of love.
She herself could not explain why she had accepted the letter. She did not reproach herselffor doing so, but the ever-increasing pressure to respond complicated her life. Her father's everyword, his casual glances, his most trivial gestures, seemed set with traps to uncover her secret. Herstate of alarm was such that she avoided speaking at the table for fear some slip might betray her,and she became evasive even with her Aunt Escol醩 tica, who nonetheless shared her repressedanxiety as if it were her own. She would lock herself in the bathroom at odd hours and for noreason other than to reread the letter, attempting to discover a secret code, a magic formula hiddenin one of the three hundred fourteen letters of its fifty-eight words, in the hope they would tell hermore than they said. But all she found was what she had understood on first reading, when she ranto lock herself in the bathroom, her heart in a frenzy155, and tore open the envelope hoping for a long,feverish156 letter, and found only a perfumed note whose determination frightened her.
At first she had not even thought seriously that she was obliged to respond, but the letter wasso explicit that there was no way to avoid it. Meanwhile, in the torment157 of her doubts, she wassurprised to find herself thinking about Florentino Ariza with more frequency and interest than shecared to allow, and she even asked herself in great distress158 why he was not in the little park at theusual hour, forgetting that it was she who had asked him not to return while she was preparing herreply. And so she thought about him as she never could have imagined thinking about anyone,having premonitions that he would be where he was not, wanting him to be where he could not be,awaking with a start, with the physical sensation that he was looking at her in the darkness whileshe slept, so that on the afternoon when she heard his resolute steps on the yellow leaves in thelittle park it was difficult for her not to think this was yet another trick of her imagination. Butwhen he demanded her answer with an authority that was so different from his languor159, shemanaged to overcome her fear and tried to dodge160 the issue with the truth: she did not know how toanswer him. But Florentino Ariza had not leapt across an abyss only to be shooed away with suchexcuses.
"If you accepted the letter," he said to her, "it shows a lack of courtesy not to answer it."That was the end of the labyrinth161. Fermina Daza regained21 her self-control, begged his pardonfor the delay, and gave him her solemn word that he would have an answer before the end of thevacation. And he did. On the last Friday in February, three days before school reopened, AuntEscol醩 tica went to the telegraph office to ask how much it cost to send a telegram to Piedras deMoler, a village that did not even appear on the list of places served by the telegraph, and sheallowed Florentino Ariza to attend her as if she had never seen him before, but when she left shepretended to forget a breviary covered in lizard162 skin, leaving it on the counter, and in it there wasan envelope made of linen163 paper with golden vignettes. Delirious with joy, Florentino Ariza spentthe rest of the afternoon eating roses and reading the note letter by letter, over and over again, andthe more he read the more roses he ate, and by midnight he had read it so many times and hadeaten so many roses that his mother had to hold his head as if he were a calf164 and force him toswallow a dose of castor oil.
It was the year they fell into devastating165 love. Neither one could do anything except thinkabout the other, dream about the other, and wait for letters with the same impatience166 they feltwhen they answered them. Never in that delirious spring, or in the following year, did they havethe opportunity to speak to each other. Moreover, from the moment they saw each other for thefirst time until he reiterated167 his determination a half century later, they never had the opportunityto be alone or to talk of their love. But during the first three months not one day went by that theydid not write to each other, and for a time they wrote twice a day, until Aunt Escol醩 tica becamefrightened by the intensity168 of the blaze that she herself had helped to ignite.
After the first letter that she carried to the telegraph office with an ember of revenge againsther own destiny, she had allowed an almost daily exchange of messages in what appeared to becasual encounters on the street, but she did not have the courage to permit a conversation, nomatter how banal169 and fleeting170 it might be. Still, after three months she realised that her niece wasnot the victim of a girlish fancy, as it had seemed at first, and that her own life was threatened bythe fire of love. The truth was that Escol醩 tica Daza had no other means of support except herbrother's charity, and she knew that his tyrannical nature would never forgive such a betrayal ofhis confidence. But when it was time for the final decision, she did not have the heart to cause herniece the same irreparable grief that she had been obliged to nurture171 ever since her youth, and shepermitted her to use a strategy that allowed her the illusion of innocence. The method was simple:
Fermina Daza would leave her letter in some hiding place along her daily route from the house tothe Academy, and in that letter she would indicate to Florentino Ariza where she expected to findhis answer. Florentino Ariza did the same. In this way, for the rest of the year, the conflicts in AuntEscol醩 tica's conscience were transferred to baptisteries in churches, holes in trees, and cranniesin ruined colonial fortresses172. Sometimes their letters were soaked by rain, soiled by mud, torn byadversity, and some were lost for a variety of other reasons, but they always found a way to be intouch with each other again.
Florentino Ariza wrote every night. Letter by letter, he had no mercy as he poisoned himselfwith the smoke from the palm oil lamps in the back room of the notions shop, and his lettersbecame more discursive173 and more lunatic the more he tried to imitate his favourite poets from thePopular Library, which even at that time was approaching eighty volumes. His mother, who hadurged him with so much fervour to enjoy his torment, became concerned for his health. "You aregoing to wear out your brains," she shouted at him from the bedroom when she heard the firstroosters crow. "No woman is worth all that." She could not remember ever having known anyonein such a state of unbridled passion. But he paid no attention to her. Sometimes he went to theoffice without having slept, his hair in an uproar121 of love after leaving the letter in the prearrangedhiding place so that Fermina Daza would find it on her way to school. She, on the other hand,under the watchful174 eye of her father and the vicious spying of the nuns175, could barely manage to fillhalf a page from her notebook when she locked herself in the bathroom or pretended to take notesin class. But this was not only due to her limited time and the danger of being taken by surprise, itwas also her nature that caused her letters to avoid emotional pitfalls176 and confine themselves torelating the events of her daily life in the utilitarian177 style of a ship's log. In reality they weredistracted letters, intended to keep the coals alive without putting her hand in the fire, whileFlorentino Ariza burned himself alive in every line. Desperate to infect her with his own madness,he sent her miniaturist's verses inscribed178 with the point of a pin on camellia petals179. It was he, notshe, who had the audacity to enclose a lock of his hair in one letter, but he never received theresponse he longed for, which was an entire strand180 of Fermina Daza's braid. He did move her atlast to take one step further, and from that time on she began to send him the veins182 of leaves driedin dictionaries, the wings of butterflies, the feathers of magic birds, and for his birthday she gavehim a square centimetre of St. Peter Clavier's habit, which in those days was being sold in secret ata price far beyond the reach of a schoolgirl her age. One night, without any warning, FerminaDaza awoke with a start: a solo violin was serenading her, playing the same waltz over and overagain. She shuddered78 when she realised that each note was an act of thanksgiving for the petalsfrom her herbarium, for the moments stolen from arithmetic to write her letters, for her fear ofexaminations when she was thinking more about him than about the natural sciences, but she didnot dare believe that Florentino Ariza was capable of such imprudence.
The next morning at breakfast Lorenzo Daza could not contain his curiosity--first because hedid not know what playing a single piece meant in the language of serenades, and second because,despite the attention with which he had listened, he could not determine which house it had beenintended for. Aunt Escol醩 tica, with a sangfroid183 that took her niece's breath away, stated that shehad seen through the bedroom curtains that the solitary violinist was standing53 on the other side ofthe park, and she said that in any event a single piece was notification of severed184 relations. In thatday's letter Florentino Ariza confirmed that he had played the serenade, that he had composed thewaltz, and that it bore the name he called Fermina Daza in his heart: "The Crowned Goddess." Hedid not play it in the park again, but on moonlit nights in places chosen so that she could listenwithout fear in her bedroom. One of his favoured spots was the paupers185' cemetery186, exposed to thesun and the rain on an indigent187 hill, where turkey buzzards dozed188 and the music achieved asupernatural resonance189. Later he learned to recognise the direction of the winds, and in this way hewas certain that his melody carried as far as it had to.
In August of that year a new civil war, one of the many that had been devastating the countryfor over half a century, threatened to spread, and the government imposed martial149 law and a sixo'clock curfew in the provinces along the Caribbean coast. Although some disturbances190 hadalready occurred, and the troops had committed all kinds of retaliatory191 abuses, Florentino Arizawas so befuddled192 that he was unaware193 of the state of the world, and a military patrol surprised himone dawn as he disturbed the chastity of the dead with his amorous194 provocations195. By some miraclehe escaped summary execution after he was accused of being a spy who sent messages in the keyof G to the Liberal ships marauding in nearby waters.
"What the hell do you mean, a spy?" said Florentino Ariza. "I'm nothing but a poor lover."For three nights he slept with irons around his ankles in the cells of the local garrison196. Butwhen he was released he felt defrauded197 by the brevity of his captivity198, and even in the days of hisold age, when so many other wars were confused in his memory, he still thought he was the onlyman in the city, and perhaps the country, who had dragged five-pound leg irons for the sake oflove.
Their frenetic correspondence was almost two years old when Florentino Ariza, in a letter ofonly one paragraph, made a formal proposal of marriage to Fermina Daza. On several occasionsduring the preceding six months he had sent her a white camellia, but she would return it to him inher next letter so that he would have no doubt that she was disposed to continue writing to him,but without the seriousness of an engagement. The truth is that she had always taken the comingsand goings of the camellia as a lovers' game, and it had never occurred to her to consider it as acrossroads in her destiny. But when the formal proposal arrived she felt herself wounded for thefirst time by the clawings of death. Panic-stricken, she told her Aunt Escol醩 tica, who gave heradvice with the courage and lucidity199 she had not had when she was twenty and was forced todecide her own fate.
"Tell him yes," she said. "Even if you are dying of fear, even if you are sorry later, becausewhatever you do, you will be sorry all the rest of your life if you say no."Fermina Daza, however, was so confused that she asked for some time to think it over. Firstshe asked for a month, then two, then three, and when the fourth month had ended and she hadstill not replied, she received a white camellia again, not alone in the envelope as on otheroccasions but with the peremptory200 notification that this was the last one: it was now or never.
Then that same afternoon it was Florentino Ariza who saw the face of death when he received anenvelope containing a strip of paper, torn from the margin201 of a school notebook, on which a one-line answer was written in pencil: Very well, I will marry you if you promise not to make me eateggplant.
Florentino Ariza was not prepared for that answer, but his mother was. Since he had firstspoken to her six months earlier about his intention to marry, Tr醤 sito Ariza had begunnegotiations for renting the entire house which, until that time, she had shared with two otherfamilies. A two-story structure dating from the seventeenth century, it was the building where thetobacco monopoly had been located under Spanish rule, and its ruined owners had been obliged torent it out in bits and pieces because they did not have the money to maintain it. It had one sectionfacing the street, where the retail202 tobacco shop had been, another section at the rear of a pavedpatio, where the factory had been located, and a very large stable that the current tenants203 used incommon for washing and drying their clothes. Tr醤 sito Ariza occupied the first section, whichwas the most convenient and the best preserved, although it was also the smallest. The notionsstore was in the old tobacco shop, with a large door facing the street, and to one side was theformer storeroom, with only a skylight for ventilation, where Tr醤sito Ariza slept. The stockroomtook up half the space that was divided by a wooden partition. In it were a table and four chairs,used for both eating and writing, and it was there that Florentino Ariza hung his hammock whendawn did not find him writing. It was a good space for the two of them, but too small for a thirdperson, least of all a young lady from the Academy of the Presentation of the Blessed Virginwhose father had restored a house in ruins until it was like new, while the families with seventitles went to bed with the fear that the roofs of their mansions204 would cave in on them while theyslept. So Tr醤 sito Ariza had arranged with the owner to let her also occupy the gallery in thepatio, and in exchange she would keep the house in good condition for five years.
She had the resources to do so. In addition to the cash income from the notions store and thehemostatic rags, which sufficed for her modest life, she had multiplied her savings205 by lendingthem to a clientele made up of the embarrassed new poor, who accepted her excessive interestrates for the sake of her discretion206. Ladies with the airs of queens descended207 from their carriagesat the entrance to the notions shop, unencumbered by nursemaids or servants, and as theypretended to buy Holland laces and passementerie trimmings, they pawned208, between sobs209, the lastglittering ornaments210 of their lost paradise. Tr醤 sito Ariza rescued them from difficulties with somuch consideration for their lineage that many of them left more grateful for the honour than forthe favour they had received. In less than ten years she knew the jewels, so often redeemed211 andthen tearfully pawned again, as if they had been her own, and at the time her son decided to marry,the profits, converted into gold, lay hidden in a clay jar under her bed. Then she did her accountsand discovered not only that she could undertake to keep the rented house standing for five years,but that with the same shrewdness and a little more luck she could perhaps buy it, before she died,for the twelve grandchildren she hoped to have. Florentino Ariza, for his part, had receivedprovisional appointment as First Assistant at the telegraph office, and Lotario Thugut wanted himto head the office when he left to direct the School of Telegraphy and Magnetism213, which heexpected to do the following year.
So the practical side of the marriage was resolved. Still, Tr醤 sito Ariza thought that twofinal conditions were prudent. The first was to find out who Lorenzo Daza really was, for thoughhis accent left no doubt concerning his origins, no one had any certain information as to hisidentity and livelihood214. The second was that the engagement be a long one so that the fianc閟could come to know each other person to person, and that the strictest reserve be maintained untilboth felt very certain of their affections. She suggested they wait until the war was over.
Florentino Ariza agreed to absolute secrecy215, not only for his mother's reasons but because of thehermeticism of his own character. He also agreed to the delay, but its terms seemed unrealistic tohim, since in over half a century of independent life the nation had not had a single day of civilpeace.
"We'll grow old waiting," he said.
His godfather, the homoeopathic practitioner, who happened to be taking part in theconversation, did not believe that the wars were an obstacle. He thought they were nothing morethan the struggles of the poor, driven like oxen by the landowners, against barefoot soldiers whowere driven in turn by the government.
"The war is in the mountains," he said. "For as long as I can remember, they have killed us inthe cities with decrees, not with bullets."In any case, the details of the engagement were settled in their letters during the weeks thatfollowed. Fermina Daza, on the advice of her Aunt Escol醩 tica, accepted both the two-yearextension and the condition of absolute secrecy, and suggested that Florentino Ariza ask for herhand when she finished secondary school, during the Christmas vacation. When the time camethey would decide on how the engagement was to be formalised, depending on the degree ofapproval she obtained from her father. In the meantime, they continued to write to each other withthe same ardour and frequency, but free of the turmoil they had felt before, and their letters tendedtoward a domestic tone that seemed appropriate to husband and wife. Nothing disturbed theirdreams.
Florentino Ariza's life had changed. Requited216 love had given him a confidence and strengthhe had never known before, and he was so efficient in his work that Lotario Thugut had no troublehaving him named his permanent assistant. By that time his plans for the School of Telegraphyand Magnetism had failed, and the German dedicated217 his free time to the only thing he reallyenjoyed: going to the port to play the accordion104 and drink beer with the sailors, finishing theevening at the transient hotel. It was a long time before Florentino Ariza, realised that LotarioThugut's influence in the palace of pleasure was due to the fact that he had become the owner ofthe establishment as well as impresario218 for the birds in the port. He had bought it gradually withhis savings of many years, but the person who ran it for him was a lean, one-eyed little man with apolished head and a heart so kind that no one understood how he could be such a good manager.
But he was. At least it seemed that way to Florentino Ariza when the manager told him, withouthis requesting it, that he had the permanent use of a room in the hotel, not only to resolveproblems of the lower belly219 whenever he decided to do so, but so that he could have at his disposala quiet place for his reading and his love letters. And as the long months passed until theformalising of the engagement, he spent more time there than at the office or his house, and therewere periods when Tr醤sito Ariza saw him only when he came home to change his clothes.
Reading had become his insatiable vice46. Ever since she had taught him to read, his motherhad bought him illustrated220 books by Nordic authors which were sold as stories for children but inreality were the crudest and most perverse221 that one could read at any age. When he was five yearsold, Florentino Ariza would recite them from memory, both in his classes and at literary eveningsat school, but his familiarity with them did not alleviate222 the terror they caused. On the contrary, itbecame acute. So that when he began to read poetry, by comparison it was like finding an oasis223.
Even during his adolescence224 he had devoured225, in the order of their appearance, all the volumes ofthe Popular Library that Tr醤 sito Ariza bought from the bargain booksellers at the Arcade25 of theScribes, where one could find everything from Homer to the least meritorious226 of the local poets.
But he made no distinctions: he read whatever came his way, as if it had been ordained227 by fate,and despite his many years of reading, he still could not judge what was good and what was not inall that he had read. The only thing clear to him was that he preferred verse to prose, and in versehe preferred love poems that he memorised without even intending to after the second reading,and the better rhymed and metered they were, and the more heartrending, the more easily helearned them.
They were the original source of his first letters to Fermina Daza, those half-bakedendearments taken whole from the Spanish romantics, and his letters continued in that vein181 untilreal life obliged him to concern himself with matters more mundane228 than heartache. By that timehe had moved on to tearful serialised novels and other, even more profane229 prose of the day. He hadlearned to cry with his mother as they read the pamphlets by local poets that were sold in plazasand arcades230 for two centavos each. But at the same time he was able to recite from memory themost exquisite43 Castilian poetry of the Golden Age. In general, he read everything that fell into hishands in the order in which it fell, so that long after those hard years of his first love, when he wasno longer young, he would read from first page to last the twenty volumes of the Young People'sTreasury, the complete catalogue of the Gamier Bros. Classics in translation, and the simplestworks that Don Vicente Blasco Ib崦眅z published in the Prometeo collection.
In any event, his youthful adventures in the transient hotel were not limited to reading andcomposing feverish letters but also included his initiation231 into the secrets of loveless love. Life inthe house began after noon, when his friends the birds got up as bare as the day they were born, sothat when Florentino Ariza arrived after work he found a palace populated by naked nymphs whoshouted their commentaries on the secrets of the city, which they knew because of thefaithlessness of the protagonists232. Many displayed in their nudity traces of their past: scars of knifethrusts in the belly, starbursts of gunshot wounds, ridges233 of the razor cuts of love, Caesareansections sewn up by butchers. Some of them had their young children with them during the day,those unfortunate fruits of youthful defiance234 or carelessness, and they took off their children'sclothes as soon as they were brought in so they would not feel different in that paradise of nudity.
Each one cooked her own food, and no one ate better than Florentino Ariza when they invited himfor a meal, because he chose the best from each. It was a daily fiesta that lasted until dusk, whenthe naked women marched, singing, toward the bathrooms, asked to borrow soap, toothbrushes,scissors, cut each other's hair, dressed in borrowed clothes, painted themselves like lugubriousclowns, and went out to hunt the first prey235 of the night. Then life in the house became impersonaland dehumanised, and it was impossible to share in it without paying.
Since he had known Fermina Daza, there was no place where Florentino Ariza felt more atease, because it was the only place where he felt that he was with her. Perhaps it was for similarreasons that an elegant older woman with beautiful silvery hair lived there but did not participatein the uninhibited life of the naked women, who professed236 sacramental respect for her. Apremature sweetheart had taken her there when she was young, and after enjoying her for a time,abandoned her to her fate. Nevertheless, despite the stigma, she had made a good marriage. Whenshe was quite old and alone, two sons and three daughters argued over who would have thepleasure of taking her to live with them, but she could not think of a better place to live than thathotel of her youthful debaucheries. Her permanent room was her only home, and this made forimmediate communion with Florentino Ariza, who, she said, would become a wise man knownthroughout the world because he could enrich his soul with reading in a paradise of salaciousness.
Florentino Ariza, for his part, developed so much affection for her that he helped her with hershopping and would spend the afternoons in conversation with her. He thought she was a womanwise in the ways of love, since she offered many insights into his affair without his having toreveal any secrets to her.
If he had not given in to the many temptations at hand before he experienced Fermina Daza'slove, he certainly would not succumb141 now that she was his official betrothed237. So Florentino Arizalived with the girls and shared their pleasures and miseries238, but it did not occur to him or them togo any further. An unforeseen event demonstrated the severity of his determination. One afternoonat six o'clock, when the girls were dressing239 to receive that evening's clients, the woman whocleaned the rooms on his floor in the hotel came into his cubicle108. She was young, but haggard andold before her time, like a fully212 dressed penitent surrounded by glorious nakedness. He saw herevery day without feeling himself observed: she walked through the rooms with her brooms, abucket for the trash, and a special rag for picking up used condoms from the floor. She came intothe room where Florentino Ariza lay reading, and as always she cleaned with great care so as notto disturb him. Then she passed close to the bed, and he felt a warm and tender hand low on hisbelly, he felt it searching, he felt it finding, he felt it unbuttoning his trousers while her breathingfilled the room. He pretended to read until he could not bear it any longer and had to move hisbody out of the way.
She was dismayed, for the first thing they warned her about when they gave her the cleaningjob was that she should not try to sleep with the clients. They did not have to tell her that, becauseshe was one of those women who thought that prostitution did not mean going to bed for moneybut going to bed with a stranger. She had two children, each by a different father, not because theywere casual adventures but because she could never love any man who came back after the thirdvisit. Until that time she had been a woman without a sense of urgency, a woman whose natureprepared her to wait without despair, but life in that house proved stronger than her virtue41. Shecame to work at six in the afternoon, and she spent the whole night going through the rooms,sweeping them out, picking up condoms, changing the sheets. It was difficult to imagine thenumber of things that men left after love. They left vomit and tears, which seemed understandableto her, but they also left many enigmas240 of intimacy241: puddles242 of blood, patches of excrement243, glasseyes, gold watches, false teeth, lockets with golden curls, love letters, business letters, condolenceletters--all kinds of letters. Some came back for the items they had lost, but most were unclaimed,and Lotario Thugut kept them under lock and key and thought that sooner or later the palace thathad seen better days, with its thousands of forgotten belongings244, would become a museum of love.
The work was hard and the pay was low, but she did it well. What she could not endure werethe sobs, the laments245, the creaking of the bedsprings, which filled her blood with so much ardourand so much sorrow that by dawn she could not bear the desire to go to bed with the first beggarshe met on the street, with any miserable246 drunk who would give her what she wanted with nopretensions and no questions. The appearance of a man like Florentino Ariza, young, clean, andwithout a woman, was for her a gift from heaven, because from the first moment she realised thathe was just like her: someone in need of love. But he was unaware of her compelling desire. Hehad kept his virginity for Fermina Daza, and there was no force or argument in this world thatcould turn him from his purpose.
That was his life, four months before the date set for formalising the engagement, whenLorenzo Daza showed up at the telegraph office one morning at seven o'clock and asked for him.
Since he had not yet arrived, Lorenzo Daza waited on the bench until ten minutes after eight,slipping a heavy gold ring with its noble opal stone from one finger to another, and as soon asFlorentino Ariza came in, he recognised him as the employee who had delivered the telegram, andhe took him by the arm.
"Come with me, my boy," he said. "You and I have to talk for five minutes, man to man."Florentino Ariza, as green as a corpse247, let himself be led. He was not prepared for thismeeting, because Fermina Daza had not found either the occasion or the means to warn him. Thefact was that on the previous Saturday, Sister Franca de la Luz, Superior of the Academy of thePresentation of the Blessed Virgin, had come into the class on Ideas of Cosmogony with thestealth of a serpent, and spying on the students over their shoulders, she discovered that FerminaDaza was pretending to take notes in her notebook when in reality she was writing a love letter.
According to the rules of the Academy, that error was reason for expulsion. Lorenzo Dazareceived an urgent summons to the rectory, where he discovered the leak through which his ironregime was trickling248. Fermina Daza, with her innate249 fortitude250, confessed to the error of the letter,but refused to reveal the identity of her secret sweetheart and refused again before the Tribunal ofthe Order which, therefore, confirmed the verdict of expulsion. Her father, however, searched herroom, until then an inviolate251 sanctuary252, and in the false bottom of her trunk he found the packetsof three years' worth of letters hidden away with as much love as had inspired their writing. Thesignature was unequivocal, but Lorenzo Daza could not believe--not then, not ever--that hisdaughter knew nothing about her secret lover except that he worked as a telegraph operator andthat he loved the violin.
Certain that such an intricate relationship was understandable only with the complicity of hissister, he did not grant her the grace of an excuse or the right of appeal, but shipped her on theschooner to San Juan de la C
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tally
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| n.计数器，记分，一致，测量；vt.计算，记录，使一致；vi.计算，记分，一致 | |
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unravelled
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| 解开，拆散，散开( unravel的过去式和过去分词 )； 阐明； 澄清； 弄清楚 | |
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thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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impetus
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| n.推动，促进，刺激；推动力 | |
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apprentice
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| n.学徒，徒弟 | |
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postal
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| adj.邮政的，邮局的 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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defective
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| adj.有毛病的，有问题的，有瑕疵的 | |
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chronic
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| adj.(疾病)长期未愈的，慢性的；极坏的 | |
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patio
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| n.庭院，平台 | |
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din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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cloister
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| n.修道院；v.隐退，使与世隔绝 | |
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leftover
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| n.剩货，残留物，剩饭；adj.残余的 | |
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renovation
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| n.革新，整修 | |
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18
siesta
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| n.午睡 | |
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19
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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20
compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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21
regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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22
obligatory
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| adj.强制性的，义务的，必须的 | |
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23
retraced
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| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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24
arcaded
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| adj.成为拱廊街道的，有列拱的 | |
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25
arcade
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| n.拱廊；(一侧或两侧有商店的)通道 | |
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26
interpretation
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| n.解释，说明，描述；艺术处理 | |
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27
cataclysm
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| n.洪水，剧变，大灾难 | |
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28
cholera
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| n.霍乱 | |
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29
vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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30
penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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31
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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32
diligent
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| adj.勤勉的，勤奋的 | |
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33
applicants
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| 申请人，求职人( applicant的名词复数 ) | |
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34
mitt
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| n.棒球手套，拳击手套，无指手套；vt.铐住，握手 | |
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35
distraction
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| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
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36
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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37
maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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38
haughtiness
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| n.傲慢；傲气 | |
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39
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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40
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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41
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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42
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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43
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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44
prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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45
conclusive
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| adj.最后的，结论的；确凿的，消除怀疑的 | |
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46
vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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47
disquieted
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| v.使不安，使忧虑，使烦恼( disquiet的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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48
austere
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| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
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49
avocation
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| n.副业，业余爱好 | |
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50
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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51
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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52
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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53
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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54
accomplice
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| n.从犯，帮凶，同谋 | |
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55
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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56
aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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57
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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58
dissuaded
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| 劝（某人）勿做某事，劝阻( dissuade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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59
presentiment
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| n.预感，预觉 | |
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60
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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61
nave
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| n.教堂的中部；本堂 | |
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62
petrified
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|
| adj.惊呆的；目瞪口呆的v.使吓呆，使惊呆；变僵硬；使石化(petrify的过去式和过去分词) | |
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63
audacity
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| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
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64
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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65
unconditional
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| adj.无条件的，无限制的，绝对的 | |
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66
doorways
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| n.门口，门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
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67
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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68
yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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69
delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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70
tunic
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| n.束腰外衣 | |
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71
gardenias
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| n.栀子属植物，栀子花( gardenia的名词复数 ) | |
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72
feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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73
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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74
rejection
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|
| n.拒绝，被拒，抛弃，被弃 | |
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75
persevere
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| v.坚持，坚忍，不屈不挠 | |
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76
spoke
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|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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77
embroidery
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|
| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
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78
shuddered
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|
| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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79
hesitation
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|
| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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80
embroidering
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| v.（在织物上）绣花( embroider的现在分词 )；刺绣；对…加以渲染（或修饰）；给…添枝加叶 | |
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81
deserted
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|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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82
swirl
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|
| v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形 | |
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83
explicit
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|
| adj.详述的，明确的；坦率的；显然的 | |
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84
fidelity
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| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
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85
everlasting
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|
| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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86
embroiderer
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| 刺绣工 | |
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87
anguish
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|
| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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88
vomit
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|
| v.呕吐，作呕；n.呕吐物，吐出物 | |
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89
turmoil
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|
| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
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90
practitioner
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|
| n.实践者，从事者；(医生或律师等)开业者 | |
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91
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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92
infusions
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| n.沏或泡成的浸液（如茶等）( infusion的名词复数 )；注入，注入物 | |
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93
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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94
frustrated
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|
| adj.挫败的，失意的，泄气的v.使不成功( frustrate的过去式和过去分词 )；挫败；使受挫折；令人沮丧 | |
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95
delirious
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|
| adj.不省人事的，神智昏迷的 | |
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96
smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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97
prostration
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|
| n. 平伏, 跪倒, 疲劳 | |
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98
hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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99
chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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100
choir
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| n.唱诗班，唱诗班的席位，合唱团，舞蹈团；v.合唱 | |
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101
taverns
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|
| n.小旅馆，客栈，酒馆( tavern的名词复数 ) | |
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102
tuxedos
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| n.餐服，无尾晚礼服( tuxedo的名词复数 ) | |
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103
coconut
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| n.椰子 | |
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104
accordion
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|
| n.手风琴；adj.可折叠的 | |
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105
schooners
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| n.（有两个以上桅杆的）纵帆船( schooner的名词复数 ) | |
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106
initiate
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| vt.开始，创始，发动；启蒙，使入门；引入 | |
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107
salons
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| n.（营业性质的）店( salon的名词复数 )；厅；沙龙（旧时在上流社会女主人家的例行聚会或聚会场所）；（大宅中的）客厅 | |
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108
cubicle
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| n.大房间中隔出的小室 | |
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109
cubicles
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| n.小卧室，斗室( cubicle的名词复数 ) | |
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110
poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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111
tarts
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| n.果馅饼( tart的名词复数 )；轻佻的女人；妓女；小妞 | |
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112
refinements
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| n.（生活）风雅；精炼( refinement的名词复数 )；改良品；细微的改良；优雅或高贵的动作 | |
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113
rosebud
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| n.蔷薇花蕾，妙龄少女 | |
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114
cherub
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| n.小天使，胖娃娃 | |
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115
tarnished
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| （通常指金属）（使）失去光泽，（使）变灰暗( tarnish的过去式和过去分词 )； 玷污，败坏 | |
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116
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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117
buttresses
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| n.扶壁，扶垛( buttress的名词复数 )v.用扶壁支撑，加固( buttress的第三人称单数 ) | |
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118
ointment
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| n.药膏，油膏，软膏 | |
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119
venom
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| n.毒液，恶毒，痛恨 | |
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120
inflamed
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| adj.发炎的，红肿的v.（使）变红，发怒，过热( inflame的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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121
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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122
prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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123
indignities
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| n.侮辱，轻蔑( indignity的名词复数 ) | |
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124
contradictory
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| adj.反驳的，反对的，抗辩的；n.正反对，矛盾对立 | |
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125
esteemed
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| adj.受人尊敬的v.尊敬( esteem的过去式和过去分词 )；敬重；认为；以为 | |
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126
esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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127
elusive
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| adj.难以表达(捉摸)的；令人困惑的；逃避的 | |
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128
arduous
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| adj.艰苦的，费力的，陡峭的 | |
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129
suffocating
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| a.使人窒息的 | |
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130
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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131
nautical
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| adj.海上的，航海的，船员的 | |
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132
galleon
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| n.大帆船 | |
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133
cargo
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| n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
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134
astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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135
salvage
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| v.救助，营救，援救；n.救助，营救 | |
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136
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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137
shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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138
interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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139
contraband
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| n.违禁品，走私品 | |
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140
abrasive
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| adj.使表面磨损的；粗糙的；恼人的 | |
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141
succumb
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| v.屈服，屈从；死 | |
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142
succumbed
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| 不再抵抗（诱惑、疾病、攻击等）( succumb的过去式和过去分词 )； 屈从； 被压垮； 死 | |
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143
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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144
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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145
convalescence
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| n.病后康复期 | |
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146
resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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147
invincible
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| adj.不可征服的，难以制服的 | |
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148
embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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149
martial
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| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
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150
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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151
stigma
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| n.耻辱，污名；(花的)柱头 | |
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152
promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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153
pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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154
garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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155
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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156
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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157
torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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158
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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159
languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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160
dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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161
labyrinth
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| n.迷宫；难解的事物；迷路 | |
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162
lizard
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| n.蜥蜴，壁虎 | |
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163
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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164
calf
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| n.小牛，犊，幼仔，小牛皮 | |
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165
devastating
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| adj.毁灭性的，令人震惊的，强有力的 | |
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166
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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167
reiterated
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| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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168
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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169
banal
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| adj.陈腐的，平庸的 | |
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170
fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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171
nurture
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| n.养育，照顾，教育；滋养，营养品；vt.养育，给与营养物，教养，扶持 | |
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172
fortresses
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| 堡垒，要塞( fortress的名词复数 ) | |
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173
discursive
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| adj.离题的，无层次的 | |
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174
watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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175
nuns
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| n.（通常指基督教的）修女， （佛教的）尼姑( nun的名词复数 ) | |
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176
pitfalls
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| （捕猎野兽用的）陷阱( pitfall的名词复数 )； 意想不到的困难，易犯的错误 | |
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177
utilitarian
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| adj.实用的，功利的 | |
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178
inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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179
petals
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| n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
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180
strand
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| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
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181
vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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182
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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183
sangfroid
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| n.沉着冷静 | |
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184
severed
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| v.切断，断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 )；断，裂 | |
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185
paupers
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| n.穷人( pauper的名词复数 )；贫民；贫穷 | |
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186
cemetery
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| n.坟墓，墓地，坟场 | |
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187
indigent
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| adj.贫穷的，贫困的 | |
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188
dozed
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| v.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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189
resonance
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| n.洪亮；共鸣；共振 | |
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190
disturbances
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| n.骚乱( disturbance的名词复数 )；打扰；困扰；障碍 | |
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191
retaliatory
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| adj.报复的 | |
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192
befuddled
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| adj.迷糊的，糊涂的v.使烂醉( befuddle的过去式和过去分词 )；使迷惑不解 | |
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193
unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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194
amorous
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| adj.多情的；有关爱情的 | |
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195
provocations
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| n.挑衅( provocation的名词复数 )；激怒；刺激；愤怒的原因 | |
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196
garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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197
defrauded
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| v.诈取，骗取( defraud的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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198
captivity
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| n.囚禁；被俘；束缚 | |
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199
lucidity
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| n.明朗，清晰，透明 | |
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200
peremptory
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| adj.紧急的，专横的，断然的 | |
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201
margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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202
retail
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| v./n.零售；adv.以零售价格 | |
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203
tenants
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| n.房客( tenant的名词复数 )；佃户；占用者；占有者 | |
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204
mansions
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| n.宅第，公馆，大厦( mansion的名词复数 ) | |
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205
savings
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| n.存款，储蓄 | |
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206
discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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207
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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208
pawned
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| v.典当，抵押( pawn的过去式和过去分词 )；以（某事物）担保 | |
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209
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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210
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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211
redeemed
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| adj. 可赎回的，可救赎的 动词redeem的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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212
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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213
magnetism
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| n.磁性，吸引力，磁学 | |
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214
livelihood
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| n.生计，谋生之道 | |
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215
secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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216
requited
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| v.报答( requite的过去式和过去分词 )；酬谢；回报；报复 | |
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217
dedicated
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| adj.一心一意的；献身的；热诚的 | |
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218
impresario
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| n.歌剧团的经理人；乐团指挥 | |
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219
belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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220
illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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221
perverse
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| adj.刚愎的；坚持错误的，行为反常的 | |
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222
alleviate
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| v.减轻，缓和，缓解(痛苦等) | |
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223
oasis
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| n.（沙漠中的）绿洲，宜人的地方 | |
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224
adolescence
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| n.青春期，青少年 | |
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225
devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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226
meritorious
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| adj.值得赞赏的 | |
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227
ordained
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| v.任命（某人）为牧师( ordain的过去式和过去分词 )；授予（某人）圣职；（上帝、法律等）命令；判定 | |
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228
mundane
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| adj.平凡的；尘世的；宇宙的 | |
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229
profane
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| adj.亵神的，亵渎的；vt.亵渎，玷污 | |
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230
arcades
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| n.商场( arcade的名词复数 )；拱形走道（两旁有商店或娱乐设施）；连拱廊；拱形建筑物 | |
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231
initiation
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| n.开始 | |
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232
protagonists
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| n.（戏剧的）主角( protagonist的名词复数 )；（故事的）主人公；现实事件（尤指冲突和争端的）主要参与者；领导者 | |
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233
ridges
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| n.脊( ridge的名词复数 )；山脊；脊状突起；大气层的)高压脊 | |
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234
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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235
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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236
professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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237
betrothed
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| n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
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238
miseries
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| n.痛苦( misery的名词复数 )；痛苦的事；穷困；常发牢骚的人 | |
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239
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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240
enigmas
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| n.难于理解的问题、人、物、情况等，奥秘( enigma的名词复数 ) | |
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241
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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242
puddles
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| n.水坑， （尤指道路上的）雨水坑( puddle的名词复数 ) | |
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243
excrement
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| n.排泄物，粪便 | |
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244
belongings
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| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
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245
laments
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| n.悲恸，哀歌，挽歌( lament的名词复数 )v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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246
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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247
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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248
trickling
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| n.油画底色含油太多而成泡沫状突起v.滴( trickle的现在分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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249
innate
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| adj.天生的，固有的，天赋的 | |
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250
fortitude
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| n.坚忍不拔；刚毅 | |
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251
inviolate
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| adj.未亵渎的，未受侵犯的 | |
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252
sanctuary
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| n.圣所，圣堂，寺庙；禁猎区，保护区 | |
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