It’s me, Martha, I bring you dije. your plate, you had let down.

-Take it to your room, I will look tomorrow, she said.

And the voice was sobbing that he tried to conceal.

-But a new gift has come to be added to the others said.

And my words were half-drowned by tears.

– Well! I will give it tomorrow, said, ‘I’m undressed.

‘But this gift is mine, I said.

And, as in the goodness of his heart, afraid to offend, despite their immense pain, I opened the door.

I rushed to her and cried on her shoulder, pressing convulsively the plate with his left hand.

– What ails you, dear? ‘He asked acariciándome.-Throughout the house were the one who kept your good humor, and now …

I steeled myself and approaching the light, I showed him the plate. At first glance, recognize the handwriting, turned white as the plaster covering the walls, and, his eyes red with tears, stared at me as if I had lost my mind.

-Take it, as I said, ‘take it.

She reached out, but withdrew with an abrupt gesture: it was as if he had touched a hot iron.

‘You see, Martha said, wanting revenge for his silence and give me some importance, you did not want to trust me, I’ve always treated like a child, but everything I guess, and while you desperate, I I have done.