One Hundred Years of Solitude

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follow him until he left the
town. Úrsula put the bar on
the door, having decided not
to take it down for the rest of
her life. Well rot in here, she
thought. Well turn to ashes in
this house without men, but
we wont give this miserable
town the pleasure of seeing us
weep. She spent the whole
morning looking for a
memory of her son in the
most hidden corners, but she
could find none.

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