And sadly continued walking across the room. Actually the name was well put, weaver d’angels … With good reason, who is preparing a child for life with the milk of her breast, prepares it for the work and the tears … It is better to twist her neck, and right-mandal for eternity [603] Blessed! Look at him! That his life, thirty years nesse Ago!

A great peace lay round about, on the mountain, dark foliage of the pines low, capellinha Barrosa put the whiteness of its wall very cheerful whitewashed.

Amaro was wondering then the figure of the weaver, without knowing why, suppunha it very high, with a guy where two tawny eyes glittered witch.

In front of the house held the mare will Cancelli, and looked through the open door: it was a bungalow kitchen, large fireplace, patio with sahida for the road where two piglets matto focused. On the shelf of the fireplace glowed white dishes. Side hung large copper casseroles, d’home a rich luster. Num old half-open closet whitened piles of clothes: there was so much order and clarity seemed sahir the acceptable and the arrangement of things.

Amaro then pounded the palms. A turtle [605] jumped scared within its wicker cage hanging from the wall. Then he called aloud:

-Lady Charlotte!

Immediate side of the courtyard a woman appeared with a sieve in his hand. And Amaro surprehendido, saw a nice creature for almost forty years, strong breasts, large meetings, long white neck, with two rich earrings, and black eyes that reminded him of the d’Amelia and rested before the brightness of of S. Joanneira.

Taken aback, stammered:

-I think I was wrong … Here lies the Lady Charlotte?