One Hundred Years of Solitude

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exposed to the sun and the
rain, as if the thongs were
unnecessary, for a dominion
superior to any visible bond
kept him tied to the trunk of
the chestnut tree. Toward
August, when winter began to
last forever, Úrsula was
finally able to give him a
piece of news that sounded
like the truth.


            Would   you believe it  that

good luck is still pouring

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