Old Benjamin: under no circumstances would he part with his ballast, that black bag; we would have to drag the monster across the mountains.
Mrs. Gurland's son, José—he was about fifteen years old—and I took turns carrying the black bag; it was awfully heavy. But, I recall, we all showed good spirits.
The word "road" became more and more symbolic. There were stretches of a path, but more often it became a hardly discernible trail among boulders—and then the steep vineyard which I will never forget. »