He smelled like a wet dog; he hadn't taken off his boots for the last three days; but to Don Fabrizio, embracing him, he was the lad more beloved than his own sons, for Maria Stella a dear nephew most basely calumniated, for Father Pirrone the sheep always lost and always found, for Concetta a dear ghost resembling her lost love.
Zakur busti usaina zuen eta hiru egun zeramatzan botak kendu gabe, baina, Don Fabriziorentzat, bere seme-alabak baino maiteago zuen mutila zen besarkatzen ari zen hura; Maria Stellarentzat, fede gaiztoz iraindutako iloba maitea; aita Pirronerentzat, ardi beti galdu eta beti aurkitua; Concettarentzat, bere amodio galduaren antzeko mamu maite bat;