One Hundred Years of Solitude

naked woman. He thought
confusedly, finally captive in
a trap of nostalgia, that
perhaps if he had married her
he would have been a man
without war and without
glory, a nameless artisan, a
happy animal. That tardy
shudder which had not
figured in his forethought
made his breakfast bitter. At
seven in the morning, when
Colonel Gerineldo Márquez
came to fetch him, in the