ners before our eyes. If we succumb, it must be facing life boldly, with a beckoning glance toward those who come behind, toward those who remain, toward those who will triumph, passing over our dead bodies; and in the ceaseless struggle of life our children are the ones who remain, the ones who will march to victory when we ourselves have succumbed. The future belongs to the young women, the young men.
Emilia enters.
Emilia. Julio!
Julio. Ah, Emilia, it is you! I knew it; she is here. She has come to speak for me, for us both. Say you have!
Emilia. Doña Carmen… Luisa…
Luisa. Are you alone?
Emilia. Mother told me she had been talking with you, and that you had had a dispute. She said that you were determined that all should be over between me and your son. You accused me of being a coquette, of trifling, of leading him on.
Julio. I never believed it; they are our mothers.
Emilia. My mother does not know I am here, I came with the maid. I should have come alone, if it had been necessary.
Julio. You have done right.
Emilia. I had to see you, to speak to you. You will not believe it—any more than I would have believed it—but my mother has taken this talk of going to America in earnest. I knew, of course, you didn't mean it, that you have never considered it.
Julio. Do you believe that?
Carmen. You hear what she says.
Emilia. My mother was afraid that I was going to leave
