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Dona Cristã laughed a bit. “Oh, Pipo, I’d be glad for you to try. But do believe me, my dear friend, touching her heart is like bathing in ice.” “I imagine. I imagine it feels like bathing in ice to the person touching her. But how does it feel to her? Cold as she is, it must surely burn like fire.”
“I want to die,” he said. “You comfort everybody else,” she whispered. “Who comforts you?” “You have to tell me so I can die.”