Maria always thought of these wholesome things when Angelique came in at
twilight, a little exhilarated by her escape from the tyrant at home.
The nurse would give place, and go out to talk with the other negroes,
while Angelique sat down and held Maria's hand. Perhaps invisible
streams of health flowed from her, quieting the sick girl. She smiled
with pure happiness, on account of general good and comfort; her oval
face and dark hair and eyes having a certain freshness of creation.
Maria looked at her and wondered what love and sorrow would do to her.
Angelique had one exquisite characteristic which Maria did not at first
notice, but it grew upon her during these quiet half-hours when she was
spared the effort of talking or listening. It was a fixed look of
penetrating sweetness, projecting the girl herself into your nature, and
making her one with you. No intrusive quality of a stare spoiled it. She
merely became you for the time being; and this unconscious pretty trick
had brought down many a long Kaskaskian, for it drove directly through
the hearts of men.
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