The Indian

The illustration for the story of Alberto Moravia "The Indian"
A girl washes dishes in a wretched kitchen, men are discussing in the next room.
"…She lived in a flat of two rooms and a kitchen in a nasty little house in one of the alleys overlooking Kandia Street. Enrico brought here the furniture, bought back in those days when he was a student. The furniture was made of metal tubes, naked, cold, as if somewhere in an outpatient clinic or in a hospital.
"Its such a stubborn one, " said Irida, throwing out the contents of her purse on the kitchen table, "which is impossible to say!" I say to him: reconcile with your father, tell him that you need to study, he will shower you with gold. Where there! He replies that for me his father does not exist.. . No matter how! Still as there is!
And she sat down to sort the beans, legs wide apart, without another word. I went up to her, took her by the chin and said:
"Would you rather have met with me, eh?" What do you think, Irida?
She looked at me attentively and again began to tell me that I had not touched her!
"And then Im always alone." He has some friends, but they talk with him about things that do not interest me at all. For the whole year, we once or twice were at the cinema. And only I know that Im crying. I has become ugly.. .