Nota 12

“The girl had slumped shoulders like those of a darning-woman. She’d learned to darn as a child. She might have come farther in life if she had devoted herself to the delicate task of mending, maybe even mending silk. Or luxurious fabrics: nice shiny satin, a kiss of souls. Little darning mosquito. A grain of sugar carried on an ant’s back. There was something slightly idiotic about her, but she wasn’t an idiot. She didn’t know she was unhappy. That’s because she believed. In what? In you, but you don’t have to believe in anyone or anything — you just have to believe. That sometimes gave her the state of grace. She’d never lost faith.

Note used in the 61st paragraph of The Hour of the Star. The handwriting is by Olga Borelli.