cap. 6 (1935 - 1961)
Nora did not know that the crumbs in the history of his family, and rarely showed the desire to gather other bits, in addition to the few who his father or his grandfather offered. From child, the paternal grandmother fell asleep inculcating the other concerns: the telling of the grim aura of the haunted graveyard, and traces of charred trunks left by the fiery tail of the devils, the werewolf was on its heels, just suspected that the girl, in full moon nights, play doctor with the biggest boys. Sometimes, however, leading to mass, the understanding was that the factory was not life, but an inescapable necessity of the flesh, and spirit by turning the skirt better acquiesce in the parties of the country. "Provided there is decency," hastened to add, just beginning to sparkle in Nora's eyes.
His grandfather, however, saw the warm barn in the factory who had brought his family for generations, a kind of incubator that straightened their backs and taught to earn bread. This intransigence was then defend it around to pubs, playing the knave and assuring him that the children we sent them to work from Rossi at the cost of using the belt. It was the time when Benito Mussolini was courting the eternal glory, in keeping with his teacher this bald, Grotius grandfather despised all his life as circumvents the sublime idea of \u200b\u200bthe great nation self-sufficient, inflating his chest to the Communist traitors, he said, "infested" the Factory, and praising - in the privacy of family, of course - the performance of the leadership, when he sent them all to make the immigrants in America.
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