You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. ” Capes waited patiently. His face was much handsomer than Gianfrancesco’s, his lips thinner, his brow much more noble and wise. Living’s just material. For her it was sufficient to know that somebody wanted her, that never again would she be alone, that always this boy with the dreams would be depending upon her.
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