I immediately wrote to Lila: pages and pages of apprehension, joy, the wish to flee, intense foreshadowing of the moment when I would see Nino Sarratore, I would walk to the Maronti with him, we would swim, we would look at the moon and the stars, we would sleep under the same roof. All I could think of was that intense moment when, holding his brother by the hand, a century ago -- ah, how much time had passed -- he had declared his love. We were children then: now I felt grown-up, almost old.

…

…

…

 

>> 网页版功能未完善，完整内容，请扫码微信小程序。