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10฀ e though t i t ridiculous t o make suc h a short journey b y rickshaw t o the Rua do Hospital. But it was at his father' s insistence, because it looked chic. At the end of the street, he jumped out, paid the driver, and began to climb unhurriedly the steep gradient of the Canada d o Monte. He had never found i t so difficult t o go and meet Lucrecia as on this occasion. His feet fel t like lead, an d as he approached th e barred gate , he felt ever more reluctant to go through it. It would have been much easier if his father hadn't intervened . At that moment, al l he desired was to caress a sparkling braid , bu t what he was going to have to confront wa s a face tha t of late had alway s been angry. And with petty squabbles that left him exhausted . From th e window s o f th e houses , peopl e lean t out , watchin g hi s progress inquisitively . Fo r the first time , he was walking openl y toward s the front gat e and pulling on the bell, which tinkled merrily . In the sky , ther e wer e stil l som e lighte r residue s o f dusk, bu t th e stars were already out. Even so, the outline of the hills was still clear, as if drawn by a pencil, something one only encounters in autumn . The gate squeake d an d th e doorman greete d hi m with a toothles s smile. Everyone in the house knew who he was and treated him with du e deference. All, that is, except for the governess, a sinister Chinese woman, as lanky as a cypress tree, who immediately appeare d in order to take him to where the mistress of the house was. He detested this woman who never showed him any courtesy, suspicious and unyielding in her hostility, eve r since he had begun his relationship with the widow. She always made him feel lik e an intruder, a gold-digger. He didn't know the house. He usually went in by the back door, up a very narrow spiral staircase that led straight to the terrace, where Lucrecia's late husband had had a wooden gazebo built, which was then converted into a roo m i n whic h t o see k relie f whe n th e summe r hea t wa s a t it s mos t 3& 56฀HENRIQU E฀DE฀SENNA฀FERNANDES฀ inclement. This room had in turn become the love nest for hi s trysts wit h the widow, with the complicity o f the governess, and far from th e curiou s gaze of the other servants . Now the whole house was open to him for there was no need to hide. On the ground floor, on his way towards the double flight of stairs, he peeped into the sitting an d dining-rooms a s he passed by. They were brightly lit , and he was able to appreciate the sumptuousness o f the carpets, the glas s and silverware, the furniture an d the porcelain jars. When he reached the first floor, he was led out onto a covered veranda , with it s arche s supporte d b y column s carve d i n th e Corinthia n style , and whic h ra n alon g th e entir e fron t o f th e house . H e sa w a table tha t had bee n set , an d furthe r away , anothe r smalle r tabl e wit h drinks , surrounded by wicker chairs. Next to this was Lucrecia, half reclining on a couch. She was beautiful, o f that there was no doubt, and at first sight, dazzling in her long blue dress, whose low neck discreetly accentuated the whiteness of her nec k an d the clear fullness o f her soothin g breasts . Her body wa s languid, but her face hard . On closer inspection, there was something faded abou t her, about th e skin round her eyes and her forehead. Sh e wasn't in the best of moods, and the tiring prospect of more arguments exasperated Adozindo. The times were long gone when they would kiss and laugh, and tumble into their love nest. 'You're late. ' He leant over her, kissed her...

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