And afterwards, in the doctor's house, I used to talk about you, every instant, laughing with her over these romantic gallantries." Ferragut was listening gloomily, but with growing concentration.

He foresaw the explanation of many hitherto incomprehensible acts.

A curtain was going to be withdrawn from the past showing everything behind it in a new light.
"The doctor would laugh, but in spite of my jesting she would assure me just the same: 'You are in love with this man; this Don Jose interests you.

Be careful, Carmen!' And the queer thing was that she did not take amiss my infatuation, especially when you consider that she was the enemy of every passion that could not be made directly subservient to our work....

She told the truth; I was in love.