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And like a man who has his mind made up and is afraid he'll change it if he waits too long, he thought he would go at once to see that influential personage whom they both could be mighty proud to call their uncle. They would probably find him it was around noon you see up at the Carabina, where he usually went to sit a while and smoke. And the two brothers started off in that direction.
An occasional villager went by, in his pointed cap, with his hands in his pockets, and his pipe in his mouth, sauntering lazily toward this tavern or that; for the cafés were the only places where anything was going on. The Carabina, for instance, was crowded. Under the awning in front were any number of blue coats, black silk caps, and weather-beaten countenances.
Tonet sat down with his back to his brother and uncle, so as to follow the fast game of dominoes that was rattling in a lively fashion at the next table. At times his eyes would wander off through the smoky atmosphere toward the bar, where the pretty daughter of tio Carabina for him the principal attraction of the café was serving drinks under a line of marine chromos.
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