But that afternoon he asked himself, with his infinite capacity for illusion, if such pitiless indifference might not be a subterfuge for hiding the torments of love. (Gabriel García Márquez)

But that afternoon he asked himself, with his infinite capacity for illusion, if such pitiless indifference might not be a subterfuge for hiding the torments of love.

Gabriel García Márquez

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afternoon capacity hiding illusion indifference infinite love might subterfuge

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