Upon entering the tower lit light, wrapped in coarse wool haik of which served for their nocturnal excursions, and taking a book would be distracted from his thoughts until you climb Pepet dinner.

The storm seemed to be fixed on the island. Rain fell in the fields, turning them into mud, leaping down the slopes of roads, overflowing as ravines soaked mountains, and large sponges, the porosity of the green pine trees and bushes. The quick flashes of lightning showed instantly, like a dream vision, with boiling black sea foam, flooded fields, which seemed full of fish of fire, bright trees under its aqueous layer.

In the kitchen of Can Mallorqui Mary’s suitors were a mass of muddy sandals and smoking bodies by the evaporation of wet clothes. Tonight the train would be longer. Pep, paternal air, had allowed the youths to wait after passing the time of courtship. I felt sorry for those boys, forced to walk in the rain. He also had a boyfriend. Had to wait, maybe the storm to pass. And if it happened, they would sleep where they could: in the kitchen on the porch … “One night is a night!”