When I got home it was night. I came quickly, but not so much that I did not think of the terms in which I would speak to the addressee. I formulated the request of my head, choosing the words I would say and the tone of them, between dry and benevolent. In the chacara, before I entered the house, I repeated them with a loud voice, to see if they were adequate and obeyed the recommendations of Capitú: "I must speak to him without fail tomorrow; choose the logar and tell me. "I uttered them slowly, and still more slowly the words without fail, as if to underline them. I repeated them again, and then I found them very dry, almost harsh, and, frankly, unfit for a mature man. I took care of picking others, and stopped.
After all, I told myself that the words could serve, everything was said in a tone that did not offend. And the proof is that, repeating them again, quasi supplices came out to me. It was enough not to carry so much, or sweeten much, a middle ground. "And Capitú is right, I thought, the house is mine, he is a simple aggregate ... Geito is, he could work very well for me, and undo Mama's plan."
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