CHAPTERI
Ifit
avesse
hadnotrainedonacertainMaggio
MaymorningValancyStirling’swholevita
lifewouldhavebeenentirelydifferent.She
sarebbe
wouldhavegone,withtheresto
restofherclan,toZia
AuntWellington’sengagementpicnicandDr.Trentsarebbe
wouldhavegonetoMontreal.Ma
Butitdidrainandyoushallsentirai
hearwhathappenedtoherbecauseofit.Valancywakened
presto
early,inthelifeless,hopelesshourjustprecedingdawn.She
aveva
hadnotsleptverywell.Onedoesnot
dorme
sleepwell,sometimes,whenoneistwenty-nineonthemorrow,e
andunmarried,inacommunitye
andconnectionwheretheunmarriedaresemplicemente
simplythosewhohavefailedtogetauomo
man.DeerwoodandtheStirlings
avevano
hadlongsincerelegatedValancytosenza speranza
hopelessoldmaidenhood.ButValancyherself
aveva
hadneverquiterelinquishedacertainpitiful,shamed,littlesperanza
hopethatRomancewouldcomeherwayyet—never,untilquesta
thiswet,horriblemorning,whenshewakenedtothefatto
factthatshewastwenty-ninee
andunsoughtbyanyman.Ay,therelay
il
thesting.Valancydidnotmindsomuchbeing
una
anoldmaid.Afterall,she
pensò
thought,beinganoldmaidcouldn’tpossiblybeasterribile
dreadfulasbeingmarriedtouna
anUncleWellingtonoranZio
UncleBenjamin,orevenanZio
UncleHerbert.Whathurtherwas
che
thatshehadneverhadachancetobeanythingbutanoldmaid.Nessun
Nomanhadeverdesiredher.Le
Thetearscameintohereyesasshelaytherealoneinle
thefaintlygreyingdarkness.She
osava
darednotletherselfcryashardasshewantedper
to,fortworeasons.Shewasafraid
che
thatcryingmightbringonanotherattacco
attackofthatpainaroundil
theheart.Shehadhad
un
aspellofitaftershehadgotintobed—ratherpeggio
worsethananyshehadhadyet.E
Andshewasafraidhermadre
motherwouldnoticeherredeyesatcolazione
breakfastandkeepatherdi
withminute,persistent,mosquito-likequestionsregardingthecausa
causethereof.“Suppose,”thoughtValancywith
un
aghastlygrin,“Iansweredwithla
theplaintruth,‘Iamcryingperché
becauseIcannotgetmarried.’Come
HowhorrifiedMotherwouldbe—thoughsheisvergogna
ashamedeverydayofhervita
lifeofheroldmaiddaughter.”Ma
Butofcourseappearancesshouldbekeptup.“Itisnot,”Valancycould
sentire
hearhermother’sprim,dictatorialvoce
voiceasserting,“itisnotmaidenlytopensare
thinkaboutmen.”Thethoughtofhermother’sexpression
faceva
madeValancylaugh—forshehadun
asenseofhumournobodyinherclan
clansuspected.Forthatmatter,therewereagood
molte
manythingsaboutValancythatnessuno
nobodysuspected.Butherlaughterwasvery
superficiale
superficialandpresentlyshelaythere,ahuddled,inutile
futilelittlefigure,listeningtola
therainpouringdownoutsidee
andwatching,withasickdistaste,la
thechill,mercilesslightcreepingintoherugly,sordidroom.Sheknewtheuglinessofthatroombyheart—knewit
e
andhatedit.Theyellow-painted
pavimento
floor,withonehideous,“hooked”tappeto
rugbythebed,withagrottesco
grotesque,“hooked”dogonit,sempre
alwaysgrinningatherwhenshesvegliava
awoke;thefaded,dark-redpaper;
il
theceilingdiscolouredbyoldleakse
andcrossedbycracks;the
stretto
narrow,pinchedlittlewashstand;thebrown-paperlambrequin
di
withpurplerosesonit;thespotted
vecchio
oldlooking-glasswiththecrackattraverso
acrossit,proppedupontheinadeguato
inadequatedressing-table;thejarof
antico
ancientpotpourrimadebyhermadre
motherinhermythicalhoneymoon;la
theshell-coveredbox,withonescoppiato
burstcorner,whichCousinSticklesaveva
hadmadeinherequallymythicalgirlhood;thebeadedpincushion
di
withhalfitsbeadfringegone;theonestiff,yellow
sedia
chair;thefadedoldmotto,“Gone
ma
butnotforgotten,”workedincolouredyarnsaboutGreat-grand-motherStirling’scupo
grimoldface;theoldphotographsofancientrelativeslongbanishedfrom
le
theroomsbelow.Therewere
solo
onlytwopicturesthatwerenotofrelatives.One,an
vecchio
oldchromoofapuppyseduto
sittingonarainydoorstep.That
foto
picturealwaysmadeValancyunhappy.Thatforlornlittledogcrouchedonthe
porta
doorstepinthedrivingrain!Whydidn’tsomeone
aperto
openthedoorandlethimin?Theother
quadro
picturewasafaded,passe-partoutedengravingofRegina
QueenLouisecomingdownastairway,che
whichAuntWellingtonhadlavishlygivenheronherdecimo
tenthbirthday.Fornineteenyearsshehadlookedatit
e
andhatedit,beautiful,smug,self-satisfiedRegina
QueenLouise.Butshenever
osato
dareddestroyitorremoveit.Madre
MotherandCousinStickleswouldhavebeenaghast,o
or,asValancyirreverentlyexpresseditinherthoughts,wouldhavehadun
afit.Everyroominthe
casa
housewasugly,ofcourse.Ma
Butdownstairsappearanceswerekeptupsomewhat.Therewas
non
nomoneyforroomsnobodyevervisto
saw.Valancysometimesfeltthatshecould
avrebbe
havedonesomethingforherroomherself,evensenza
withoutmoney,ifshewerepermesso
permitted.Buthermotherhadnegatived
ogni
everytimidsuggestionandValancydidnotpersisteva
persist.Valancyneverpersisted.
Shewasafraid
di
to.Hermothercouldnotbrookopposition.
Mrs.Stirlingwouldsulkfordays
se
ifoffended,withtheairsofuna
aninsultedduchess.Theonly
cosa
thingValancylikedaboutherroomwasche
thatshecouldbealonethereatnotte
nighttocryifshewantedto.Ma
But,afterall,whatdiditmatterse
ifaroom,whichyouusedfornothingexceptdormire
sleepinganddressingin,wereugly?Valancywasnever
permesso
permittedtostayaloneinherroomforqualsiasi
anyotherpurpose.Peoplewhowantedtobealone,soMrs.FrederickStirling
e
andCousinSticklesbelieved,couldonlywanttobealoneforsomesinistro
sinisterpurpose.Butherroomin
la
theBlueCastlewaseverythinguna
aroomshouldbe.Valancy,socowed
e
andsubduedandoverriddenandsnubbedinreale
reallife,waswonttoletherselfandare
gorathersplendidlyinherday-dreams.Nessuno
NobodyintheStirlingclan,o
oritsramifications,suspectedthis,meno
leastofallhermothere
andCousinStickles.Theynever
sapevano
knewthatValancyhadtwohomes—theuglyreddi mattoni
brickboxofahome,onElmStreet,e
andtheBlueCastleinSpain.Valancy
aveva
hadlivedspirituallyintheBlu
BlueCastleeversinceshecouldricordare
remember.Shehadbeenaverytinychild
quando
whenshefoundherselfpossessedofesso
it.Always,whensheshuthereyes,shecould
vedeva
seeitplainly,withitsturretse
andbannersonthepine-cladmontagna
mountainheight,wrappedinitsdebole
faint,blueloveliness,againstthetramonto
sunsetskiesofafaire
andunknownland.Everythingwonderful
e
andbeautifulwasinthatcastello
castle.Jewelsthatqueensmight
avrebbero
haveworn;robesofmoonlight
e
andfire;couchesofroses
e
andgold;longflightsofshallow
marmo
marblesteps,withgreat,whiteurns,e
andwithslender,mist-cladmaidensgoingupe
anddownthem;courts,marble-pillared,
dove
whereshimmeringfountainsfellandnightingalessangtra
amongthemyrtles;hallsofmirrors
che
thatreflectedonlyhandsomeknightse
andlovelywomen—herselftheloveliestoftutte
all,forwhoseglancemenmorivano
died.Allthatsupportedher
attraverso
throughtheboredomofherdayswasla
thehopeofgoingonun
adreamspreeatnight.Maggior parte
Most,ifnotall,ofla
theStirlingswouldhavediedoforrore
horroriftheyhadknownmetà
halfthethingsValancydidinherBlu
BlueCastle.Foronethingshe
aveva
hadquiteafewloversinesso
it.Oh,onlyoneata
volta
time.Onewhowooedherwith
tutto
alltheromanticardouroftheageofchivalrye
andwonherafterlongdevozione
devotionandmanydeedsofderring-do,e
andwasweddedtoherwithpompe
andcircumstanceinthegreat,banner-hungcappella
chapeloftheBlueCastle.Attwelve,
questo
thisloverwasafairragazzo
ladwithgoldencurlsandcelesti
heavenlyblueeyes.Atfifteen,hewas
alto
tallanddarkandpale,ma
butstillnecessarilyhandsome.Attwenty,hewasascetic,
sognante
dreamy,spiritual.Attwenty-five,he
aveva
hadaclean-cutjaw,slightlycupo
grim,andafacestronge
andruggedratherthanhandsome.Valancynevergrewolderthantwenty-fiveinher
Blu
BlueCastle,butrecently—veryrecently—hereroe
herohadhadreddish,tawnycapelli
hair,atwistedsmileandun
amysteriouspast.Idon’t
dico
sayValancydeliberatelymurderedtheseloversassheoutgrewli
them.Onesimplyfadedawayasanothercame.
Thingsareveryconvenientin
questo
thisrespectinBlueCastles.Ma
But,onthismorningofhergiorno
dayoffate,Valancycouldnottrovare
findthekeyofherBlu
BlueCastle.Realitypressedonhertoohardly,
abbaiando
barkingatherheelslikeun
amaddeninglittledog.Shewastwenty-nine,lonely,undesired,ill-favoured—theonlyhomely
ragazza
girlinahandsomeclan,withnopassato
pastandnofuture.Asfarasshecould
guardare
lookback,lifewasdrabe
andcolourless,withnotonesinglecremisi
crimsonorpurplespotanywhere.Asfarasshecould
guardare
lookforwarditseemedcertaintobejustthestesso
sameuntilshewasnothingbutun
asolitary,littlewitheredleafclingingtoun
awintrybough.Themomentwhen
una
awomanrealisesthatshehasnulla
nothingtolivefor—neitherlove,dovere
duty,purposenorhope—holdsforheril
thebitternessofdeath.“AndIjusthavetogoon
vivere
livingbecauseIcan’tstop.Imayhaveto
vivere
liveeightyyears,”thoughtValancy,inuna
akindofpanic.“We’re
tutti
allhorriblylong-lived.Itsickensmetothinkofit.”
Shewasgladitwasraining—orrather,shewasdrearilysatisfied
che
thatitwasraining.Therewouldbeno
picnic
picnicthatday.Thisannual
picnic
picnic,wherebyAuntandUncleWellington—onesempre
alwaysthoughtoftheminthatsuccession—inevitablycelebravano
celebratedtheirengagementatapicnic
picnicthirtyyearsbefore,hadbeen,oflateyears,un
averitablenightmaretoValancy.By
una
animpishcoincidenceitwasthestesso
samedayasherbirthdaye
and,aftershehadpassedtwenty-five,nessuno
nobodyletherforgetit.Quanto
Muchasshehatedgoingtole
thepicnic,itwouldneverhaveoccurredtohertorebelagainstit.Ci
Thereseemedtobenothingoftherivoluzionario
revolutionaryinhernature.Andshe
sapeva
knewexactlywhateveryonewoulddetto
saytoheratthepicnic
picnic.UncleWellington,whomshedisliked
e
anddespisedeventhoughheaveva
hadfulfilledthehighestStirlingaspiration,“marryingmoney,”woulddiceva
saytoherinapig’ssussurro
whisper,“Notthinkingofgettingmarriedancora
yet,mydear?”andthen
andare
gooffintothebellowofrisata
laughterwithwhichheinvariablyconcluso
concludedhisdullremarks.AuntWellington,ofwhomValancystoodinabjectawe,wouldtellheraboutOlive’s
nuovo
newchiffondressandCecil’slastdevotedlettera
letter.Valancywouldhavetolookaspleased
e
andinterestedasifthevestito
dressandletterhadbeenherso
orelseAuntWellingtonwouldbeoffended.E
AndValancyhadlongagodeciso
decidedthatshewouldratheroffendere
offendGodthanAuntWellington,perché
becauseGodmightforgiveherma
butAuntWellingtonneverwould.Zia
AuntAlberta,enormouslyfat,withanamiableabitudine
habitofalwaysreferringtohermarito
husbandas“he,”asifhewerela
theonlymalecreatureinla
theworld,whocouldneverdimenticare
forgetthatshehadbeenagrande
greatbeautyinheryouth,wouldcondolewithValancyonhersallowpelle
skin—.“Idon’tknowwhy
tutte
allthegirlsoftodayaresosunburned.Quando
WhenIwasagirlmypelle
skinwasrosesandcream.Iwascounted
la
theprettiestgirlinCanada,mydear.”Forse
PerhapsUncleHerbertwouldn’tsayanything—orforse
perhapshewouldremarkjocularly,“Howfatyou’regetting,Doss!”E
Andtheneverybodywouldlaughovertheexcessivelyhumorousideaofpovero
poor,scrawnylittleDossgettingfat.Handsome,
solenne
solemnUncleJames,whomValancydislikedma
butrespectedbecausehewasreputedtobeveryintelligente
cleverandwasthereforetheclan
clanoracle—brainsbeingnonetooplentifulintheStirlingconnection—wouldprobabilmente
probablyremarkwiththeowl-likesarcasmo
sarcasmthathadwonhimhisreputazione
reputation,“Isupposeyou’rebusywithyourhope-chestthesedays?”E
AndUncleBenjaminwouldaskalcuni
someofhisabominableconundrums,tra
betweenwheezychuckles,andanswerthemhimself.“Whatis
la
thedifferencebetweenDossandun
amouse?“Themousewishesto
danneggiare
harmthecheeseandDossdesidera
wishestocharmthehe’s.”Valancyhad
sentito
heardhimaskthatriddlefiftytimese
andeverytimeshewantedtothrowqualcosa
somethingathim.Butshenever
fatto
did.Inthefirstplace,theStirlings
semplicemente
simplydidnotthrowthings;inthesecond
luogo
place,UncleBenjaminwasaricco
wealthyandchildlessoldwidowere
andValancyhadbeenbroughtupinthepaura
fearandadmonitionofhisdenaro
money.Ifsheoffendedhimhe
fosse
wouldcutheroutofhiswill—supposingshewereinit.Valancydidnotwanttobe
tagliato
cutoutofUncleBenjamin’swill.Shehadbeenpoorallher
vita
lifeandknewthegallingamarezza
bitternessofit.Soshe
sopportato
enduredhisriddlesandevensmiledtorturato
torturedlittlesmilesoverthem.Zia
AuntIsabel,downrightanddisagreeableasaneastvento
wind,wouldcriticiseherinqualche
someway—Valancycouldnotpredictjusthow,forZia
AuntIsabelneverrepeatedacriticism—shetrovava
foundsomethingnewwithwhichtojabyouogni
everytime.AuntIsabelpridedherselfonsayingwhatshethought,
ma
butdidn’tlikeitsowellquando
whenotherpeoplesaidwhattheythoughttoher.Valancynever
detto
saidwhatshethought.CousinGeorgiana—namedafterhergreat-great-grand-mother,who
aveva
hadbeennamedafterGeorgetheFourth—wouldrecountdolorouslythenamesoftutti
allrelativesandfriendswhoaveva
haddiedsincethelastpicnic
picnicandwonder“whichofussarà
willbethefirsttoandare
gonext.”Oppressivelycompetent,AuntMildredwould
parlava
talkendlesslyofherhusbande
andherodiousprodigiesofbabiestoValancy,perché
becauseValancywouldbetheonlyoneshecouldtrovare
findtoputupwithit.Forthe
stesso
samereason,CousinGladys—reallyFirstCousinGladysvolta
onceremoved,accordingtotherigoroso
strictwayinwhichtheStirlingstabulatedrelationship—atall,thinsignora
ladywhoadmittedshehaduna
asensitivedisposition,woulddescribeminutelythetorturesofherneuritis.E
AndOlive,thewondergirlofthewholeStirlingclan
clan,whohadeverythingValancyhadnot—beauty,popolarità
popularity,love,—wouldshowoffherbellezza
beautyandpresumeonherpopolarità
popularityandflauntherdiamondinsigniaofamore
loveinValancy’sdazzled,enviouseyes.Ci
Therewouldbenoneoftutto
allthistoday.Andtherewouldbe
non
nopackingupofteaspoons.Le
Thepackingupwasalwayslasciate
leftforValancyandCousinStickles.E
Andonce,sixyearsago,asilverteaspoonfromZia
AuntWellington’sweddingsethadbeenperduto
lost.Valancyneverheardthelastofthatsilverteaspoon.
Its
fantasma
ghostappearedBanquo-likeateverysubsequentfamiglia
familyfeast.Oh,yes,Valancy
sapeva
knewexactlywhatthepicnicwouldbecome
likeandsheblessedthepioggia
rainthathadsavedherfromit.Ci
Therewouldbenopicnicthisyear.Se
IfAuntWellingtoncouldnotfesteggiare
celebrateonthesacreddayitselfshewouldavrebbe
havenocelebrationatall.Thankwhatevergodstherewerefor
che
that.Sincetherewouldbeno
picnic
picnic,Valancymadeuphermindche
that,iftherainheldupinla
theafternoon,shewouldgouptola
thelibraryandgetanotherofJohnFoster’sbooks.Valancywasnever
permesso
allowedtoreadnovels,butJohnFoster’sbookswerenotnovels.Theywere“naturebooks”—so
il
thelibrariantoldMrs.FrederickStirling—“allaboutil
thewoodsandbirdsandbugse
andthingslikethat,youknow.”SoValancywas
permesso
allowedtoreadthem—underprotest,foritwasonlytooevidente
evidentthatsheenjoyedthemtoomuch.Itwaspermissible,evenlaudable,to
leggere
readtoimproveyourminde
andyourreligion,butalibro
bookthatwasenjoyablewaspericoloso
dangerous.Valancydidnotknow
se
whetherhermindwasbeingmigliorando
improvedornot;butshe
sentiva
feltvaguelythatifshehadcomeacrossJohnFoster’sbooksyearsfa
agolifemighthavebeenuna
adifferentthingforher.They
sembravano
seemedtohertoyieldglimpsesofamondo
worldintowhichshemightvolta
oncehaveentered,thoughtheporta
doorwasforeverbarredtoherora
now.Itwasonlywithinthelastyear
che
thatJohnFoster’sbookshadbeenintheDeerwoodbiblioteca
library,thoughthelibrariantoldValancyche
thathehadbeenawell-knownscrittore
writerforseveralyears.“Wheredoeshelive?”
Valancyhad
chiesto
asked.“Nobodyknows.
Fromhisbookshe
deve
mustbeaCanadian,butnon
nomoreinformationcanbeavere
had.Hispublisherswon’tsay
una
aword.QuitelikelyJohnFosteris
un
anomdeplume.Hisbooksaresopopularwecan’tkeeptheminatall,
anche se
thoughIreallycan’tseewhatpeopletrovi
findinthemtoraveover.”“Ithinkthey’rewonderful,”
disse
saidValancy,timidly.“Oh—well—”
MissClarkson
sorrise
smiledinapatronisingfashionche
thatrelegatedValancy’sopinionstolimbo,“Ican’tdire
sayIcaremuchforbugsmyself.Ma
ButcertainlyFosterseemstosapere
knowallthereistosapere
knowaboutthem.”Valancydidn’t
sapeva
knowwhethershecaredmuchforbugseither.ItwasnotJohnFoster’suncanny
conoscenza
knowledgeofwildcreaturesandinsectvita
lifethatenthralledher.Shecouldhardly
dire
saywhatitwas—sometantalisinglureofun
amysteryneverrevealed—somehintofun
agreatsecretjustalittlefurtheron—somedebole
faint,elusiveechooflovely,dimenticate
forgottenthings—JohnFoster’smagicwasindefinable.Yes,shewouldget
un
anewFosterbook.Itwas
un
amonthsinceshehadThistleHarvest,sosicuramente
surelyMothercouldnotobject.Valancyhadreadit
quattro
fourtimes—sheknewwholepassagesoffbyheart.And—she
quasi
almostthoughtshewouldgoe
andseeDr.Trentaboutthatqueerdolore
painaroundtheheart.Ithad
venuto
comeratheroftenlately,andle
thepalpitationswerebecomingannoying,nottoparlare
speakofanoccasionaldizzymomento
momentandaqueershortnessofrespiro
breath.Butcouldshegotoseehim
senza
withouttellinganyone?Itwas
un
amostdaringthought.NoneoftheStirlingseverconsulted
un
adoctorwithoutholdingafamiglia
familycouncilandgettingUncleJames’approval.Then,they
andarono
wenttoDr.AmbroseMarshofPortLawrence,che
whohadmarriedSecondCousinAdelaideStirling.Ma
ButValancydislikedDr.AmbroseMarsh.E
And,besides,shecouldnotarrivare
gettoPortLawrence,fifteenmilesaway,senza
withoutbeingtakenthere.Shedidnotwantanyoneto
sapesse
knowaboutherheart.Therewouldbe
tale
suchafussmadeandogni
everymemberofthefamilywouldveniva
comedownandtalkitovere
andadviseherandcautionhere
andwarnherandtellherhorribletalesofgreat-auntse
andcousinsfortytimesremovedwhohadbeen“justlikethat”e
and“droppeddeadwithoutamoment’savvertimento
warning,mydear.”AuntIsabelwould
ricorderebbe
rememberthatshehadalwaysdetto
saidDosslookedlikearagazza
girlwhowouldhavehearttrouble—“sopizzicato
pinchedandpeakedalways”;and
Zio
UncleWellingtonwouldtakeitasapersonale
personalinsult,when“noStirlingeverhadheartmalattia
diseasebefore”;andGeorgianawouldforebodein
perfettamente
perfectlyaudibleasidesthat“poor,caro
dearlittleDossisn’tlongforquesto
thisworld,I’mafraid”;andCousinGladyswould
diceva
say,“Why,myhearthasbeenlikeche
thatforyears,”inatono
tonethatimpliednooneelsehadanybusinesseventoavere
haveaheart;andOlive—Olive
volesse
wouldmerelylookbeautifulandsuperiore
superioranddisgustinglyhealthy,asse
iftosay,“Whyallquesto
thisfussoverafadedsuperfluitylikeDossquando
whenyouhaveme?”Valancy
sentiva
feltthatshecouldn’ttellnessuno
anybodyunlessshehadto.She
sentiva
feltquitesuretherewasnulla
nothingatallseriouslywrongwithhercuore
heartandnoneedoftutto
allthepotherthatwouldensuese
ifshementionedit.She
sarebbe
wouldjustslipupquietlye
andseeDr.Trentthatverygiorno
day.Asforhisbill,she
aveva
hadthetwohundreddollarsche
thatherfatherhadputinthebanca
bankforherthedayshewasborn.Shewasnever
permesso
allowedtouseeventheinteressi
interestofthis,butshewouldsegretamente
secretlytakeoutenoughtopagare
payDr.Trent.Dr.
Trentwas
un
agruff,outspoken,absent-mindedoldfellow,ma
buthewasarecognisedauthorityonheartdisease,evense
ifhewereonlyageneralpractitionerinout-of-the-worldDeerwood.Dr.Trentwas
oltre
overseventyandtherehadbeenrumoursche
thathemeanttoretirepresto
soon.NoneoftheStirling
clan
clanhadevergonetohimsinceheaveva
hadtoldCousinGladys,tenyearsprima
before,thatherneuritiswasallimaginarye
andthatsheenjoyedit.Youcouldn’tpatronisea
dottore
doctorwhoinsultedyourfirst-cousin-once-removedlikethat—nottomentionthathewasaPresbyterianquando
whenalltheStirlingswenttoil
theAnglicanchurch.CHAPTERII
Quando
WhenCousinSticklesknockedatherporta
door,Valancyknewitwashalf-pastsette
sevenandshemustgetup.Aslongasshecould
ricordare
remember,CousinStickleshadknockedatherporta
doorathalf-pastseven.CousinStickles
e
andMrs.FrederickStirlinghadbeenupsincesette
seven,butValancywasallowedtolieabedhalfanhourlongerbecauseofafamiglia
familytraditionthatshewasdelicate.Valancygotup,
anche se
thoughshehatedgettinguppiù
morethismorningthanevershehadprima
before.