I didn’t immediately seek out Maria Cora. It seemed best that she should learn of my arrival from the newspapers. I had no one who could tell her, and I couldn’t bring myself to go to some editor’s desk and announce my return from Rio Grande; I wasn’t a passenger newly disembarked, whose name would appear on the ship’s list. Two days passed; on the third day, I opened a newspaper and saw my name. The article announced that I had come from São Paulo after being involved in the fighting in Rio Grande; it mentioned certain battles, and generally praised my conduct, and, finally, mentioned that I was once again living in the same boardinghouse in Catete. Since my landlord was the only person to whom I had spoken briefly about my experiences, he could have been the one who submitted these facts, although he denied this. I began to receive a few visitors. They all wanted to know everything, but I said very little.

Among the various visiting cards, I received two from Maria Cora and her aunt, who both sent words of welcome. Nothing more was needed; all that remained was for me to go and thank them, and I prepared to do so; however, on the very day I had decided to visit them in Engenho Velho, I was filled with a sense of foreboding . . . but why? How to explain my feelings of apprehension whenever I recalled Maria Cora’s husband, who had died by my hand? The mere thought of what I would feel in her presence overwhelmed me. Given my main motive for enlisting, such reticence may seem hard to comprehend, but, to understand the unease that made me keep postponing the visit, you have only to consider that, even though I had been defending myself against her husband and had killed him in order not to be killed myself, he was still her husband. Finally, though, I plucked up courage and went to her house.

Maria Cora was dressed in mourning. She received me kindly, and both she and her aunt repeated their congratulations. We spoke about the civil war, about life in Rio Grande, and a little about politics, but nothing more. Not a word was said about João da Fonseca. When I left, I wondered if Maria Cora would now be disposed to marry me.

“I don’t think she would refuse, although she certainly doesn’t single me out for special attention. In fact, she seems rather less friendly than before. Can she have changed?”