Her half seeing eyes glowed in the darkness, a silent question from where she lay.

You missed dinner.

There, in the night, slowly a smile crept.

On her face, her lips, her eyes.

For even not knowing she always knew.

Witch.

Adone turned, suddenly disgusted, ready to forgive and forget on the cold bottom of a bottle.

But it wasn’t to be done.

She turned him back to her, eyes large and trustful, little tiny hands like pure white doves on his coat.

Come near the fire, let me see the human eyes you always hide from me.

Her voice sad, old like he felt.

Her fingers on his cheek, warm and gentle.

I longed for this glance.

Have you found a shred of sympathy? Have you seen what life can do to the best of men?

For poverty and misfortune are no laughing matters.

A poor man can be honourable and share his tepid little meal with no reserve.

Tell me in confidence, for your pride is still too great to say it, have you found your human heart?

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