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180 [ 18 ] LOVE PAC T the First rAys of dawn began to streak through the numerous cracks in the wood shutters of the windows in that room. The cheerful singing with which small birds were celebrating daybreak reached the ears of Don Faustino and his lover. Driven by jealousy, trampling religious and moral considerations , with prudence thrown to the winds, with an irresistible onrush of love, a love that verged on fanaticism and that made her believe she was linked to the doctor by an eternal bond, María had fallen in his arms. “Don’t detain me any longer,” she said, freeing herself from them. “I should leave. Do not follow me. Honor the pact that we have made.” “I will, for as difficult as it may be. But, will you not tell me the reason, the basis for this mystery in which you wrap yourself?” “The reason for the mystery is the mystery itself, and I cannot reveal it. Instead, I want you to promise again not to follow me, and I don’t even want to think about explaining to you how I got here, and if you figure it out, you have to keep it to yourself. Lastly , I don’t want you to talk to anyone about me or our clandestine meetings. Do you promise?” “I’ve said yes, and I won’t break my word,” replied the doctor . “I love you with all my heart and I’ll be yours forever,” added María. “However, please understand: I must be free to flee from your side, when I should, without your attempting to stop me. When I think I should flee, you’ll not place an obstacle in my way, you’ll not ask the reason. Be content with knowing that I am LOVE PACT 181 bound to you by eternal ties. My flight will restore to you all your free will, but I, even though a world may separate me from you, I will always consider myself your faithful companion, your slave. you are, you have been, you will be my only love. See it as delirium, but I believe that I have loved you eternally, across a thousand existences; that you are the soul of my soul; that I am not only your immortal friend, but your immortal wife, the sweet, gentle essence of your very spirit.” “No, my love. you are its energy, its vitality, its glory, the star that is to guide it, the magnet that should attract it, the divine virtue that is and will be the origin, root, and constant source of all its lofty thoughts and of all its best acts. The torment of not loving was destroying my soul; the baneful suspicion that my heart was incapable of loving was embittering my existence. you have dispelled the baneful suspicion; you have put an end to the torment. Love of love was my martyrdom. Without someone that my soul judged worthy of being loved, my soul was wasting away. Today my soul lives in you: I love you. These three words, i love you, defiled a thousand times, spoken a thousand times without awareness and without feeling, now have an absolute, infinite value.” “Another of the conditions of our pact,” continued María, affecting a coldness that her tremulous voice belied, “a fundamental condition for my pride to be at peace, and in a certain way for my conscience to be serene—despite my sin, which God in his mercy may perhaps forgive me—is that I place you under no obligation, no constraint. Perhaps you should not, now and almost certainly not in future, make me your lawful wife in this transitory life. Nor can you have me at your side as your friend. Even if the reasons that cause me to lead such a mysterious life were to disappear, I myself would not consent to aggravating the sin with a scandal. you see, then, that the person who can be neither your friend nor your wife, must remain free to flee from you when an overriding obligation calls her to another place.” “Don’t torment me, María,” said the doctor. “I don’t know who you are, but it’s of no consequence to me to be in the dark about such-and-such ordinary circumstance of the least essential part of what constitutes you. María, I know your soul: my soul has fused with your soul. I want to be your lover...

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