“Fine figure of a woman” is vulgar; José Dias found a better J. phrase. He was the only person from down here who visited us in Tijuca, bringing love from our families and words of his own, which were music itself; I’ll not put them here to save paper, but they were delicious. One day, he compared us to birds brought up under the eaves of neighboring houses. Imagine the rest, the chicks getting their wings and flying up into the sky, and the sky itself wider so as to make room for them. Neither of us laughed: both of us were moved and convinced, forgetting everything, even that afternoon in 1857… Happiness has a good heart.