Ana Claude simply does not understand nothing. Soon she would go to understand. Small Ana Claude did not sleep that night. Lying in its net, illuminated only for the light of the moonlight that slid for the half-open window, it she smiles. She was fascinated by the register. That very small, simple book, for it was as a treasure. Not. It was more than what this.
It was a revelation: it wanted to learn to read. Of morning the mother found already it of foot, anxious, agitated. As already she knew that expression, and foreseeing problems, Zira if esquivou and dissimulated not to hear the question: – Mother, I have 8 years, right? Why I am not in the school? – This clothes Look at. I did not say you to wash and to leave of gravy? ' ' You ' ' of the same skill that I left yesterday. – Mother – She goes to wash this clothes and later ' ' nis conversa' '. Ana Claude leaves the mother. Stubborn.
She would not yield. The mother wise person of this, but had hope that it forgot it subject. After all, to study age thing for rich. It only needed to know to take care of of the house. One day would arrange a husband and the life would follow its route as it had to be. But it did not advance. All day, to each chance, the insistent question: – Mother, when that I go to enter in the school? One day, Alzira? this age the name of the mother, Alzira, but the few that knew it treated it for Zira? it heard palms in the door of the house. For the opening of the window it noticed that one lady held Ana Claude for the hand. – Alzira Owner, you can come a little here? A voice of intimidante gravity questioned, waiting of the side of is.