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132 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1925
…at bottom, this man of thirty-seven, already rather bald, with a full black moustache, was still something of a romantic. He had inherited this from his mother, a skinny lady who played the harp and spent her time reading poetry.
…he could now admit that he had at first been overawed by her. He had thought her proud, exacting, aloof. All because of her lovely figure, her big dark eyes, her erect bearing, her crisp wavy hair… But in that magnificent body of a barbarous queen, he had discovered the heart of a child. She was good, charitable, lighthearted, and her disposition was as placid and gentle as the limpid surface of a summer river.
…Alves suddenly found himself choked by the feeling of his ridiculousness. He saw himself as belonging to the grotesque tribe of betrayed husbands who cannot come home without some lover making his escape… And it was like that throughout the city, scandal in corners, lovers fleeing and lovers caught… He had caught one of them.


Y la vida continuó, banal y corriente, tal como es. (115)