One Hundred Years of Solitude

with his water pipe, the
willful first-born, who had
always been too big for his
age, had become a
monumental adolescent. His
voice had changed. An
incipient fuzz appeared on his
upper lip. One night, as
Úrsula went into the room
where he was undressing to
go to bed, she felt a mingled
sense of shame and pity: he
was the first man that she had
seen naked after her husband,