Dom Casmurro

by Machado de Assis


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CXXXIV - Saturday


The idea finally came out of the brain. It was night, and I could not sleep, no matter how hard it shook me. Also no night passed me so short. It dawned, when he took care not to be more than an hour or two. Sai, supposing to leave the idea at home; she came with me Here it was the same dark color, the same trembling azes, and as it flew with them, it was as if it were fixed; I carried it in the retina, not that I covered the external things, but I saw them through it, with the color more pale than usual, and without delay.

Does not remind me well the rest of the day. I know that I have written some letters, I have bought a substance, which I do not say, so as not to have the desire to procreate it. The pharmacy failed, it's true; the owner became a banker, and the bank prospered. When I found death in my pocket, I felt as much joy as if I had just gotten the big lot, or even greater, because the prize of the lottery is spent, and death is not wasted. I went to my mother's house, in order to say goodbye, as a visit. Either by truth or by illusion, everything there seemed to me better on that day, my mother less sad, Uncle Cosme forgotten of the heart, cousin Justina of the tongue. I spent an hour in peace. I even gave up the project. What was needed to live? Never leave that house again, or hold that hour to myself ...

 

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