В главе 54 - это вот точно одиннадцатилетние дети? Ах, ну да... Девчонка и старый потаскун в главных ролях. Читать тошно, если честно.

Mostly, though, Bella thought about Pietro. Pietro . . . Just the thought of his name was enough to cheer her up when her back ached and her eyes blurred and her fingers throbbed from her grip on the scissors. In real life, she barely saw him. He walked her to and from work, before and after his own job digging ditches. In the evenings he went out. Just about every conversation they had was in the midst of dodging peddlers, pickpockets, and horse droppings, or in the midst of the Luciano baby crying, Signor and Signora Luciano screaming at each other, the dirty Luciano children punching each other in the stomach.
But in her daydreams, Bella and Pietro sat on the fire escape together, just the two of them. The laundry fluttered and the stars twinkled above them. They gazed into each other’s eyes. They—oh, please, don’t even imagine this! It will make your hands tremble, you’ll cut the shirtwaist! Oh, all right, go ahead. Just be careful—-they leaned in together for a kiss.
Oh, be still, my heart . . .