Metafictional "cheap tearjerker" about a destitute Brazilian girl. She suffers, she dies. Sorry. But, she draws strength from her own misery, her bad luck nourishes her internal contentedness. Her own naivety (or interiority?) is her escape from the crush of misfortune. The author of the tearjerker, one Rodrigo S. M., muses on his role as the arbiter of the girl's life. He feels devoted to this girl despite her ugliness. One can assume Lispector purposely made him male. For he is the one to tell us she is ugly, she is broken, she is weak. Though her survival in itself signifies great strength. She faces a lonely life with a smile right up until her starring hour.

"Yet she'd surely die one day as if she'd learned the starring role by heart. For at the hour of death a person becomes a shining movie star, it's everyone’s moment of glory and it’s when as in choral chanting you hear the whooshing shrieks."