chatty, witty. He told me that he had secreted me in one of his stories as a superficial and unpleasant girl. And do you know why? Because of Ophelia.
"Why Ophelia?" the surprised aunts interrupted me.
"Yeah. Ophelia. The dining room, the big table, and Ophelia in a jacket and white gloves looking at us made him uncomfortable, but poor Ophelia was just looking to feed us not because she was interested in what we were saying. Or to be more precise, by keeping quiet. My fault, but I could not imagine that all this could intimidate the professor who had intimidated me. I remember that he even wrote to me: 'Of her there remains the image of the beautiful youth and a breakfast at home His, disastrous I think, and the beautiful youth was joined by whims and even a bit of wickedness, as is right. But these are things that I have fantasized about too much and that have no connection with the truth. With the capricious lovely girl having fun, I imagine, behind a very clumsy provincial professor I made a character, the protagonist of a story, in which some evil one saw, wrongly, D.'"
"How can you say that you have little memory? You even remember whole letters..." Aunt Laura observed.
"I remember why I was sorry for having made him suffer. Unfortunately I always remember suffering. I agree that it was a suffering... though superficial. But how to imagine that an Ophelia in white gloves and all the rest could embarrass him to such an extent? You know that I usually try to put myself in the shoes of others, always when my penniless friends invite me out I pretend not to be hungry, so as not to make the bill too high..."
"This is true." confirmed Aunt Emma. "I've often seen you go to the refrigerator after going out for lunch."
"With Berto I didn't understand. It seemed very boring, that's all. When he brought me the story to read,...
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