when Colonel Gerineldo
Márquez had let him see an
execution. The bad omen did
not change his solemnity,
however. He took the shot he
had planned and it was good.
A short time later the
drumbeats, the shrill of the
bugle, the shouting and
running of the people told
him that not only had the
game of pool come to an end,
but also the silent and solitary
game that he had been
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