She reads novels—and history—and all sorts of things. There are no funerals among the poor, only burials. But why this part of the plan now seemed to her quite unattractive was a question she did not care to examine too closely. “I admired your sister in Paris,” he answered, “but I do not believe that I regard her now as altogether the same person. “I am glad,” she told herself, “I came. When he returned from pissing, he sat down with her. Wait, though. She told him the story of her parents, her marriage to Iovelli, the loss of her baby, the kidnapping after the miscarriage.
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