One Hundred Years of Solitude

dug up their last gold pieces
to take advantage of a quick
flight over the houses of the
village. Protected by the
delightful cover of collective
disorder, José Arcadio and
Pilar passed many relaxing
hours. They were two happy
lovers among the crowd, and
they even came to suspect
that love could be a feeling
that was more relaxing and
deep than the happiness, wild
but momentary, of their secret