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Автор: Machado de Assis

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The eighth day after confinement was one of stupor and
unconsciousness. Not a moment passed unheeded. It was near
midnight when, the attendants having retired for a short rest,
and Rathunor sat alone by her bedside, her eyes suddenly opened
and bent their gaze upon him. Beautiful, calm, divine Nu-nah, her
wonderful eyes shone with a surprising brilliancy and they were
so riveted upon him that he dare not move, much less speak. The
minutes that intervened between her waking and speaking seemed as
an eternity to Rathunor.
"My darling husband, are you beside me--are you where I can speak
to you, and are we alone?"

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