José Arcadio Buendía, with
the copy of the order in his
hand, found him taking his
nap in a hammock he had set
up in the narrow office. Did
you write this paper? he
asked him. Don Apolinar
Moscote, a mature man,
timid, with a ruddy
complexion, said yes. By
what right? José Arcadio
Buendía asked again. Don
Apolinar Moscote picked up
a paper from the drawer of
nextflipdebug2
(nextflipdebug2)
#1