I found out nothing more, and later regretted that I had asked; I should have followed Capitu’s advice. Then, as I was going inside, cousin Justina held me back for a few minutes, talking of the heat and the forthcoming festival of the Conception, of my old oratories, and finally of Capitu. She spoke no ill of her; on the contrary, she hinted that she might grow into a pretty girl. I, who already thought her very beautiful, would have proclaimed that she was the loveliest creature in the world, if caution had not given me a measure of discretion. Even so, as cousin Justina began to praise her manner, her seriousness, her habits, the way she helped in the home, the affection she had for my mother, all this aroused me to praise her, too. Even when I didn’t do it directly in words, I did so in the gestures of approval with which I accompanied her every assertion, and certainly in the happiness that must have lit up my face. I did not see that I was confirming José Dias’ accusations, which she had heard that afternoon in the living room: that is, if she didn’t already suspect something. I only thought of that later in bed. Only then did I feel that, as I was speaking, cousin Justina’s eyes seemed to. touch me, hear me, smell me, taste me: they seemed to stand in for all the other senses. It couldn’t have been jealousy; there was no place for jealousy for a youngster of my age in a forty-year-old widow. It is true that, after some time, she modified her praise, and even made a few critical remarks about Capitu, telling me that she was mischievous and always looking at the ground; but even then, I don’t think it was jealousy. Rather I think … yes … this is what I think: cousin Justina found a vague reawakening of her own sensations from watching those of others. Lips can give pleasure merely by narrating.