Her hopeless love
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Pensava no seu amor infeliz, na solidão de sua alma, tão erma de recordações doces, de esperanças queridas. Toda essa tarde fora um martírio para ela; vira Álvaro falar a Cecília, adivinhara quase as suas palavras. Há poucos momentos tinha percebido a sombra do moço que atravessara a esplanada, e sabia que não era por sua causa que ele passava.
She thought of her unhappy love, of the solitude of a soul barren of sweet memories and cherished hopes; the whole evening had been a martyrdom — she had seen Álvaro speak to Cecília, all but guessed his words, and knew the shadow crossing the terrace was not passing for her sake.
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