One Hundred Years of Solitude

secret from the domestic
friction, once allowed herself
the liberty of saying that her
little great-great-grandson
had his pontifical future
assured because he was the
grandson of a saint and the
son of a queen and a rustler.
In spite of that conspiracy of
smiles, the children became
accustomed to think of their
grandfather as a legendary
being who wrote them pious
verses in his letters and every