She reached out her arms while speaking with a monotonous and sorrowful voice, like the specters in the apparitions of the theater.
"I have hesitated a long time before seeing you," she continued.

"I feared your wrath; I was sure that in the first moment you would let yourself be overpowered by your anger and I was terrified at the thought of the interview....

I have spied upon you ever since I knew that you were in Barcelona; I have waited near your home; many times I have seen you through the doorway of a cafe, and I have taken my pen to write to you.

But I feared that you would not come, upon recognizing my handwriting, or that you would pay no attention to a letter in another hand....

This morning in the Rambla I could no longer contain myself.
And so I sent that woman to you and I have passed some cruel hours fearing that you would not come....