One Hundred Years of Solitude

was a, just the opposite of
her, who was a lady in a
palace or a pigsty, at the table
or in bed, a lady of breeding,
God-fearing, obeying His
laws and submissive to His
wishes, and with whom he
could not perform, naturally,
the acrobatics and trampish
antics that he did with the
other one, who, of course,
was ready for anything like
the French matrons, and even
worse, if one considers well,