Jose Dias was so happy that he changed the man from the grave moments, as he was to the street, by the man who was folding and restless. He moved all over, talked about everything, made me stop at every step before a display or a theater poster. He told me the plot of some pieces, recited monologues in verse. He did all the errands, paid bills, received rents from home; for you bought a twenty-lot lottery. After all, the tezo man yielded the flexible, and proceeded to speak slowly, with superlatives. I did not see that change was natural; I was afraid that I had changed the settled resolution, and I entered it with affectionate words and gestures until we entered the omnibus.