Dom Casmurro by Machado de Assis

One night, coming from the city to Engenho Novo, I met on the Central train a young man from the neighborhood, whom I know by sight and wearing a hat. He greeted me, sat next to me, talked about the moon and the ministers, and ended up reciting verses to me. The journey was short, and the verses might not have been entirely bad. It happened, however, that as I was tired, I closed my eyes three or four times; it was enough for him to stop reading and put the verses in his pocket.