Waiting alone in the little walled garden, with the tender, intensely barbarian smell of new-cut grass wafting in from outside, the still-proud Princess thought once more of Baron Francisco, the man she had belonged to so completely. He was now, according to the gypsy woman, prospecting for silver in the Andes.
   Then, without any warning, came the thud of fists, a muffled cry, fighting on the stairway, and she somehow knew that her heart had been right all along. He was here! “I tried to forget you, but I couldn’t, my giddy little goose!” he stated with his eyes (for his voice was now silent for ever).
   Abruptly, it dawned on her that her days of loneliness were over, and as he slid the little ring onto her finger, she took a moment to plan some of the details of their pre-nuptial agreement.