- Tired? … No, I’m not … I am very unhappy.

He stressed these words softly, passionate and trembling lips. His hands are a bit thin and skinny, that she rubbed each other in a gesture of childhood shyness, shaking well. And a few words of sympathy addressed to you, replied with one voice muffled and drowned.

‘All I have lost … I have not the one.

– Did not your father left you?

He raised his eyelids and, forgetting her shyness, faced me.

‘My father … Are you sick, is not it?

What eyes! Gray eyes and wide open, candid and sweet, with hints of changing the shade of a thick black eyelashes … She’s lovely, my friend, this daughter of AMOUNT. How the hell is the compound will provide the world of the flower of poetry? It must be that the mother has put a lot of him, because the truth is that this girl can not find anything that reminds you with his big head around, his little eyes sparkling, his thin lips made by mischievous smile and short broad chin. Elena is not high, very petite, with timid gestures of bird ready to fly. His face is oval, with thick curls apart as those of the Virgin on a very white face. She was pale, perhaps with emotion and fatigue.

-There you are standing, I said, ‘and let me sit beside her. We need to talk.