One Hundred Years of Solitude

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accompany him in his
asthmatic insomnia, without
speaking, strolling through
the house with him in the
darkness. One night in the
room where Úrsula had slept
they saw a yellow glow
coming through the
crumbling cement as if an
underground sun had changed
the floor of the room into a
pane of glass. They did not
have to turn on the light. It
was sufficient to lift the

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