The Distant Affair
Act I My fingers were black with ink when I stopped moving, the quill still trembling in my hand, the drop of ink hanging at the tip like a dark bead of sweat. I am Duarte Machado, thirty-two years old, a clerk in the provincial town of Vela, and I wanted only to secure my position by submitting my annual report to the Magistrate. The hands of the woman who had copied the ledger for me, Dona...
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