About the Author 20 страница

“That pair thought that Mr. Lozano worked his blackmail with the information he got from the shack-up joints, ” Ambrosio said. “That he got his cuts too so that people could avoid a scandal. A good man for that kind of business, right, sir? ”

“I hope you haven’t come to me with any sad tales, Gimpy, ” Mr. Lozano said. “Because I’m in a bad mood. ”

“What an idea, ” Gimpy Melequí as said. “Here’s your envelope with best regards from the boss, Mr. Lozano. ”

“What do you know, that’s more like it. ” And Ludovico and Hipó lito as if saying he’s got him completely tamed. “What about that other matter, Gimpy, did the subject show up here? ”

“He showed up on Wednesday, ” Gimpy said. “In the same car as last time, Mr. Lozano. ”

“Fine, Gimpy, ” Mr. Lozano said. “Well done, Gimpy. ”

“Do I think it was bad? ” Ambrosio asked. “Well, sir, on the one hand of course it was, right? But police affairs, political affairs are never very clean. Working with Don Cayo you get to find that out, sir. ”

“But there was an accident, Mr. Lozano. ” Ludovico and Hipó lito: he’s caught him again. “No, I didn’t forget how to work the machine, the guy you sent did a perfect job of setting it up. I turned it on myself. ”

“Where are the tapes, then? ” Mr. Lozano asked. “Where are the pictures? ”

“The dogs ate them, sir. ” Hipó lito and Ludovico didn’t look at each other, they twisted their mouths, hunched over. “They ate half of the tape, they tore up the pictures. The package was on top of the refrigerator, Mr. Lozano, and the animals …”

“Enough, Gimpy, enough, ” Mr. Lozano grunted. “You’re not an imbecile, you’re something else, words can’t describe what you are, Gimpy. The dogs? The dogs ate them up? ”

“Great big dogs, sir, ” Gimpy Melequí as said. “The boss got them, hungry dogs, they eat anything they come across, they’d even eat a person if he didn’t watch out. But the subject is sure to come back and …”

“Go see a doctor, ” Mr. Lozano said. “There must be some kind of treatment, injections, something, there must be some cure for such stupidity. Dogs, Jesus Christ, the dogs ate them. So long, Gimpy. Get going, don’t blame yourself and beat it now. To the Meiggs Extension, Ludovico. ”

“And besides, it wasn’t just Mr. Lozano who took advantage, ” Ambrosio said. “Didn’t Don Cayo too, in a different way? That pair said that on the force everybody on the list took bribes in some way, from the highest down to the lowest. That’s why Ludovico’s great dream was to become a regular. You mustn’t think that everybody’s as honest and decent as you are, sir. ”

“You get out this time, Hipó lito, ” Mr. Lozano said. “Let them start getting to know you, since they won’t be seeing Ludovico’s face for quite a while. ”

“What do you mean by that, Mr. Lozano? ” Ludovico asked.

“Don’t play dumb, you know damned well why, ” Mr. Lozano said. “Because you’re going to go to work for Mr. Bermú dez, just the way you wanted to, right? ”

In the middle of the next week, Amalia was cleaning the mantel when the bell rang. She went to open the door and Don Fermí n’s face. Her knees shook, she was barely able to stammer good morning.

“Is Don Cayo in? ” He didn’t answer her greeting, he came into the living room almost without looking at her. “Please tell him that Zavala is here. ”

He didn’t recognize you, she guessed, half frightened, half resentful, and at that moment the mistress appeared on the stairs: come in, Fermí n, sit down, Cayo was on his way, he’d just called, could she give him a drink? Amalia closed the door, slipped into the pantry and spied. Don Fermí n was looking at his watch, his eyes were impatient and his face worried, the mistress served him a glass of whiskey. What had happened to Cayo, he was always so punctual I don’t think you like my company, you’re so restless, the mistress said, I’m going to get angry. They treated each other with such familiarity, Amalia was startled. She went out the service entrance, crossed the garden, and Ambrosio had gone off a little way from the house. He greeted her with a terrified face: did he see you, did he talk to you?

“He didn’t even recognize me, ” Amalia said. “Have I changed that much? ”

“That’s good, that’s good. ” Ambrosio took a deep breath as if life was coming back to him; he was shaking his head, still upset, and looking at the house.

“Always secrets, always afraid, ” Amalia said. “I may have changed, but you’re still the same. ”

But she said it with a smile so that he could see she wasn’t mad at him, that she was teasing, and she thought how happy you are to see him, stupid. Now Ambrosio was laughing too and with his hands he made her understand what we were saved from, Amalia. He got a little closer to her and all of a sudden he took her hand: could they go out that Sunday, could they meet at the streetcar stop at two o’clock? All right, then, Sunday.

“So Don Fermí n and Don Cayo have got to be friends again, ” Amalia said. “So Don Fermí n will be coming around now. One of these days he’s going to recognize me. ”

“Just the opposite, they’re real enemies now, ” Ambrosio said. “Don Cayo is ruining Don Fermí n’s business because he’s the friend of some general who tried to start a revolution. ”

He was telling her that when they saw Don Cayo’s black car turning the corner, there he is, run, and Amalia went into the house. Carlota was waiting for her in the kitchen, her big eyes crazy with curiosity: did she know that man’s chauffeur, what were they talking about, what did he say to you, he was a good-looking fellow, wasn’t he? She was telling her some lies and then the mistress called her: take this tray up to the study, Amalia. She went up with the glasses and ashtrays that were dancing about, trembling, thinking that fool Ambrosio has infected me with his fear, what’ll I say if he recognizes me. But he didn’t recognize her: Don Fermí n’s eyes looked at her for a second without seeing her and turned away. He was sitting and tapping his foot, impatient. She put the tray on the desk and left. They were closeted for half an hour. They were arguing, you could hear their voices in the kitchen, loud, and the mistress came and closed the pantry door so they couldn’t hear. When from the kitchen she saw Don Fermí n’s car leaving, she went up to get the tray. The mistress and the master were talking in the living room. Such shouting, the mistress was saying, and the master: the rat was trying to get away when he thought the ship was sinking, now he’s paying for it and he doesn’t like it. What right did he have to call Don Fermí n a rat? he was more respectable and a nicer person than he was, Amalia thought. He must have been jealous of him, and Carlota tell me, who was it, what were they talking about?

“I too have this job because the President asked me, ” Dr. Arbelá ez said, softening his voice, and he thought good, let’s make peace. “I’m trying to do something positive and …”

“Everything positive done in this ministry is done by you, doctor, ” he said forcefully. “I take care of the negative side. No, I’m not joking, it’s true. I assure you that I’m doing you a great service, relieving you of everything that has to do with everyday police work. ”

“I didn’t mean to offend you, Don Cayo, ” Dr. Arbelá ez’ chin wasn’t trembling anymore.

“I’m not offended, doctor, ” he said. “I would have liked to have made those cuts in the security budget. I simply can’t. You’ll see that for yourself. ”

Dr. Arbelá ez picked up the folder and handed it to him.

“Take it, you don’t have to give me any proof, I believe you without it. ” He tried to smile, scarcely parting his lips. “We’ll find some way to fix up those patrol cars and start the repairs in Tacna and Moquegua. ”

They shook hands, but Dr. Arbelá ez didn’t get up to see him to the door. He went directly to his office and Dr. Alcibí ades went in behind him.

“The Major and Lozano have just left, Don Cayo. ” He handed him an envelope. “Bad news from Mexico, it seems. ”

Two typewritten pages, corrected by hand, notes in the margin in nervous writing. Dr. Alcibí ades lighted his cigarette while he read, slowly.

“So the plot is taking shape. ” He loosened his tie, folded the papers and put them back in the envelope. “Did this seem so urgent to the Major and Lozano? ”

“There were meetings of Apristas in Trujillo and Chiclayo, and Lozano and the Major think they have something to do with the news that the exile group is getting ready to leave Mexico, ” Dr. Alcibí ades said. “They’ve gone to talk to Major Paredes. ”

“I hope those birds come back to the country so we can lay our hands on them, ” he said, yawning. “But they won’t. This is the tenth or eleventh time, doctor, don’t forget that. Tell the Major and Lozano that we’ll get together tomorrow. There’s no rush. ”

“The people from Cajamarca called to confirm the meeting at five o’clock, Don Cayo. ”

“Yes, fine. ” He took an envelope out of his briefcase and gave it to him. “Will you find out how this matter is going? It’s a land claim in Bagua. Do it personally, doctor. ”

“First thing tomorrow, Don Cayo. ” Dr. Alcibí ades thumbed through the memo, nodding. “Yes, how many signatures are missing, what reports there are, I’ll find out. Fine, Don Cayo. ”

“Any moment now we’ll get the news that the money for the plot has disappeared. ” He smiled, looking in the envelope from the Major and Lozano. “Any moment now the leaders will be accusing each other of being traitors and thieves. Sometimes you get bored with the same things always happening, don’t you? ”

Dr. Alcibí ades nodded and smiled politely.

“Why do I think you’re so honest and decent? ” Ambrosio asked. “Please, don’t ask me hard questions like that, sir. ”

“Are they really going to assign me to take care of Mr. Bermú dez, Mr. Lozano? ” Ludovico asked.

“You’re bursting with happiness, ” Mr. Lozano said. “You worked it all out quite well with Ambrosio, didn’t you? ”

“I don’t want you to think I don’t want to work with you, Mr. Lozano, ” Ludovico said. “The fact is that the black fellow and I have gotten to be good friends and he’s always telling me why don’t you put in for a transfer and me no, I’m happy working with Mr. Lozano. Maybe Ambrosio made the request on his own, sir. ”

“All right. ” Mr. Lozano began to laugh. “It’s a step up for you and I think it’s only right that you should want to better yourself. ”

“Well, starting with the way you talk to people, ” Ambrosio said. “You don’t start off insulting people as soon as they turn their backs the way Don Cayo does. You don’t put anyone down, you say good things about people, you’re polite. ”

“I put in a good word with Bermú dez about you, ” Mr. Lozano said. “You do your job, you’ve got guts, everything the black fellow said about you was true. You won’t be mad at me. You know, all I had to do was say you were no good and Bermú dez would have taken my advice. So you owe this promotion to me as much as to your black friend. ”

“Of course, Mr. Lozano, ” Ludovico said. “I don’t know how to thank you, sir. I don’t know how to make it up to you, I mean it. ”

“I do, ” Mr. Lozano said. “By behaving yourself, Ludovico. ”

“You just say the word and there I am, at your orders for whatever you want, Mr. Lozano. ”

“Keeping your tongue tucked away in your pocket too, ” said Mr. Lozano. “You never went out with me in the Ford, you don’t know what a monthly payoff is. You can make it up to me that way, understand? ”

“I swear you didn’t have to tell me that, Mr. Lozano, ” Ludovico said. “I swear it wasn’t necessary. What do you think I am? ”

“You know that it’s up to me if you want to get on the regular list someday, ” Mr. Lozano said. “Or if you never want to get on it, Ludovico. ”

“And the way you treat people too, ” Ambrosio said. “So elegant, always saying nice things to them, intelligent things. I can hear when you’re talking to someone, sir. ”

“Here come Hipó lito and Half-breed Cigü eñ a, ” Ludovico said.

They got into the Ford and Ludovico was so happy with the news of his transfer that I started driving the wrong way, he told Ambrosio later. Half-breed Cigü eñ a was repeating his usual tales.

“The plumbing broke down and it cost a lot of money, Mr. Lozano. Besides, we’re getting fewer and fewer customers every day. People in Lima just aren’t screwing anymore and we’re going broke. ”

“Well, if business is that bad, then you won’t mind if I shut you down tomorrow, ” Mr. Lozano said.

“You think they’re lies I’m making up so I won’t have to give you the payoff, Mr. Lozano, ” Half-breed Cigü eñ a protested. “But they’re not, here it is, you know that it’s something sacred with me. I’m only telling you my troubles as a friend, Mr. Lozano, so you’ll know what they are. ”

“And the way you treat me too, ” Ambrosio said. “The way you listen to me, the way you ask me questions, the way we talk together. The trust you have in me. My whole life has changed ever since I came to work for you, sir. ”

ON SUNDAY, AMALIA TOOK AN HOUR to get herself ready and even Sí mula, always so dry, teased her Lord of mercy, such preparations to go out. Ambrosio was already at the streetcar stop when she got there and he squeezed her hand so hard that Amalia gave a little cry. He was laughing, happy, blue suit, a shirt as white as his teeth, a small tie with red and white dots: you always made him jumpy, Amalia, now too, he’d been wondering whether or not you were going to stand me up. The streetcar was half empty when it arrived and, before she sat down, Ambrosio took out his handkerchief and dusted off the seat. The window seat for the queen, he said, bowing deeply. Such a good mood, how he’d changed, and she told him: how different you get when you’re not afraid they’re going to catch me with you. And he was happy because he was thinking of other times, Amalia. The conductor was looking at them, amused, with the tickets in his hand, and Ambrosio sent him on his way asking him anything else we can do for you? You scared him, Amalia said, and he yes, this time nobody was going to come between them, no conductor and no textile worker. He looked seriously into her eyes: did I behave bad, did I go off with another woman? Misbehaving was when you left your woman for another one, Amalia, we fought because you didn’t understand what I was asking of you. If she hadn’t been so flighty, so stuck-up, they could have kept on seeing each other on the outside and he tried to put his arm around her shoulder, but Amalia took it away: let me go, you behaved bad, and there was laughter. The streetcar had filled up. They were silent for a while and then he changed the subject: they’d stop by and see Ludovico for a minute, Ambrosio had to talk to him, then they’d be alone and do whatever Amalia wanted to do. She told him that Don Cayo and Don Fermí n were raising their voices in the study and that the master said afterward that Don Fermí n was a rat. He’s more likely the rat, Ambrosio said, after being such good friends now he’s trying to make him go under in his business deals. Downtown they took a bus to Rí mac and walked a couple of blocks. It was here, Amalia, on the Calle Chiclayo. She followed him to the end of a hallway, saw him take out a key.

“Do you think I’m crazy? ” she said, taking his arm. “Your friend isn’t here. The place is empty. ”

“Ludovico will be along later, ” Ambrosio said. “We’ll talk while we wait for him. ”

“Let’s walk while we talk, ” Amalia said. “I’m not going in there. ”

They argued in the muddy flagstone courtyard, watched by children who stopped running around, until Ambrosio opened the door and made her go in, with a shove, laughing. Everything was dark for Amalia for a few seconds until Ambrosio turned on the light.

He left the office at a quarter to five and Ludovico was already in the car, sitting next to Ambrosio. To the Paseo Coló n, the Cajamarca Club. He was quiet and kept his eyes lowered during the ride, more sleep, more sleep. Ludovico accompanied him to the door of the club: should he go in, Don Cayo? No, wait here. He began to go up the stairs when he saw the tall figure appear on the landing, Senator Heredia’s gray head, and he smiled: maybe Mrs. Heredia was here. They’ve all arrived, he shook hands with the senator, a miracle of punctuality among Peruvians. He should come in, the meeting would be in the reception room. Lights on, mirrors with gilt frames on the ancient walls, photographs of mustachioed old dodderers, men clustered together who stopped murmuring when they saw them come in: no, there weren’t any women. The deputies came over, they introduced him to the others: names and surnames, hands, how do you do, good evening, he thought Mrs. Heredia and Hortensia, Queta, Maclovia? he heard at your orders, delighted, and he glimpsed buttoned vests, hard collars, stiff handkerchiefs sticking out of jacket pockets, ruddy cheeks, and waiters in white jackets who served drinks, hors d’oeuvres. He accepted a glass of orangeade and thought so distinguished, so white, those well-cared-for hands, those manners of a woman used to giving orders, and he thought Queta so dark, so coarse, so vulgar, so used to serving.

“If you want, we can get started right away, Don Cayo, ” Senator Heredia said.

“Yes, senator, ” she and Queta, yes, “whenever you want. ”

The waiters arranged the chairs, the men sat down holding their pisco sours, there must have been twenty of them, he and Senator Heredia sat facing them. Well, here they were all together to talk informally about the President’s visit to Cajamarca, the senator said, that city which everyone present loved so much and he thought: she could be her maid. Yes, she was her maid, a triple reason for rejoicing by the people of Cajamarca the senator was saying, not here but in the ranch house she probably had in Cajamarca, because of the honor that his visit to our region means the senator was saying, a ranch house full of old furniture and long hallways and bedrooms with thick vicuñ a rugs which she probably lazed about on while her husband attended to his senatorial duties in the capital, and because he is going to inaugurate a new bridge and the first stretch of the highway the senator was saying, a house full of pictures and servants, but her favorite maid was probably Quetita, her Quetita. Senator Heredia stood up: above all, an occasion for the people of Cajamarca to show their gratitude to the President for these public works which are so important for the department and the country. A movement of chairs, hands, as if they were going to applaud, but the senator was already speaking again, Quetita the one who probably served her breakfast in bed and listened to her confidences and kept her secrets: that’s why this Reception Committee has been named, consisting of, and he noticed out of the corner of his eye that when they heard their names those mentioned smiled or blushed. The object of this meeting is to coordinate the program put together by the government itself for the presidential visit, and the senator turned to look at him: Cajamarca was a hospitable and a thankful place, Don Cayo, Odrí a would receive a welcome worthy of his accomplishments at the head of the nation’s high destiny. He didn’t get up; the glimmer of a smile, he thanked the distinguished Senator Heredia, the parliamentary delegation from Cajamarca for their selfless efforts to make the visit a success, in the back of the room behind some fluttering sheer curtains the two shadows dropped down beside each other in heat on a feather mattress that received them noiselessly, the members of the Reception Committee for having had the goodness to come to Lima to exchange ideas, and immediately muffled bold laughter broke out and the shadows clung together and rolled and were one single form on the white sheets under the curtains: he too was convinced that the visit would be a success, gentlemen.

“Excuse me for interrupting, ” Deputy Saravia said. “I just want to let you know that Cajamarca is going to turn its house inside out to receive General Odrí a. ”

He smiled, nodded, sure that it would be that way, but there was one detail about which he wanted to get the opinion of those present, Engineer Saravia: the rally on the Plaza de Armas, where the President would speak. Because the ideal thing would be, he coughed, softened his voice, for the rally to come off in such a way, he searched for words, that the President would not feel disappointed. The rally would be an unprecedented success, Don Cayo, the senator interrupted him, and there were confirmatory murmurs and nodding of heads, and behind the curtains it was all muffled sounds, rubbing and soft panting, an agitation of sheets and hands and mouths and skins that sought each other out and came together.

Mr. Santiago, the taps on the door came again, Mr. Santiago and he opened his eyes, ran a heavy hand across his face and went to open the door, dulled by sleep: Señ ora Lucí a.

“Did I wake you up? I’m sorry, but did you hear the radio, hear what’s happening? ” She was stumbling over her words, her face excited, her eyes alarmed. “A general strike in Arequipa, they say that Odrí a may name a military cabinet. What’s going to happen, Mr. Santiago? ”

“Nothing, Señ ora Lucí a, ” Santiago said. “The strike will last a couple of days and will end and the gentlemen of the Coalition will come back to Lima and everything will go on the same. Don’t worry about it. ”

“But some people were killed, there were some wounded. ” Her little eyes sparkled as if they had counted the dead, seen the wounded. “At the Arequipa theater. The Coalition was holding a rally and the Odrí ists got in and there was a fight and the police threw bombs. It came out in La Prensa, Mr. Santiago. Dead, wounded. Is there going to be a revolution, Mr. Santiago? ”

“No, ma’am, ” Santiago said. “Besides, why should you be afraid? If there’s a revolution nothing’s going to happen to you. ”

“But I don’t want the Apristas to come back, ” Señ ora Lucí a said, frightened. “Do you think they’re going to throw Odrí a out? ”

“The Coalition has nothing to do with the Apristas. ” Santiago laughed. “They’re four millionaires who used to be friends of Odrí a and have had a falling out with him now. It’s a fight among first cousins. And really, what does it matter to you whether the Apristas come back or not? ”

“They’re atheists, Communists, ” Señ ora Lucí a said. “Aren’t they? ”

“No, ma’am, they’re neither atheists nor Communists, ” Santiago said. “They’re more right-wing than you are and they hate the Communists more than you do. But don’t worry, they’re not coming back and Odrí a still has some time left. ”

“You and your jokes all the time, Mr. Santiago, ” Señ ora Lucí a said. “Excuse me for waking you up, I thought that as a newspaperman you’d have more news. Lunch will be ready in a little while. ”

Señ ora Lucí a closed the door and he took a long stretch. While he was taking a shower he laughed to himself: silent nocturnal figures were coming through the windows of the old house in Barranco, Señ ora Lucí a woke up howling, the Apristas! out of her mind, stiff with fright, she hugged her mewing cat and watched the invaders opening closets, trunks and dressers and taking away her dusty rags, her holey blankets, her moth-eaten clothes: the Apristas, the atheists, the Communists! They were coming back to steal the possessions of proper people like Señ ora Lucí a, he thinks. He thinks: poor Señ ora Lucí a, if you’d only known that according to my mother you weren’t a proper person either. He was finishing dressing when Señ ora Lucí a returned: lunch was ready. That pea soup and that lonely potato, a shipwrecked sailor in a plate of green water, he thinks, those stale vegetables with slices of shoe sole that Señ ora Lucí a called beef stew. Clock Radio was turned on, Señ ora Lucí a was listening with her forefinger to her lips: all activity in Arequipa was at a standstill, there had been a demonstration on the Plaza de Armas and the leaders of the Coalition had once more called for the resignation of the Minister of Government, Mr. Cayo Bermú dez, whom they held responsible for the serious incidents of the night before at the Municipal Theater, the government had called for calm and warned that it would not tolerate any disorders. Did he see, did he see, Mr. Santiago?

“You’re probably right, Odrí a probably is going to fall, ” Santiago said. “Radio stations didn’t use to dare broadcast news like that. ”

“What if the Coalition comes to power instead of Odrí a, will things be better? ” Señ ora Lucí a asked.

“They’ll be the same or worse, ma’am, ” Santiago said. “But without military men and without Cayo Bermú dez maybe it wouldn’t be so noticeable. ”

“You’re always joking, ” Señ ora Lucí a said. “You don’t even take politics seriously. ”

“And when the old man was in the Coalition? ” Santiago asks. “Didn’t you get involved? Didn’t you help out at the demonstrations the Coalition organized against Odrí a? ”

“Not when I worked for Don Cayo and not when I worked for your papa, ” Ambrosio says. “I never got involved in politics, son. ”

“I have to go now, ” Santiago said. “I’ll see you later, ma’am. ”

He went into the street and only then did he discover the sun, a cold winter sun that had rejuvenated the geraniums in the tiny garden. A car was parked across from the boardinghouse and Santiago passed by it without looking, but he vaguely noticed that the car started up and was going along beside him. He turned around and looked: hi, Skinny. Sparky was smiling at him from behind the wheel, on his face the expression of a child who has just been into mischief and doesn’t know whether he’ll be celebrated or scolded. He opened the car door, got in, and now Sparky was enthusiastically patting him on the back, God damn it you see I found you, and he was laughing with nervous joy, I did by God.

“How in hell did you find the boardinghouse? ” Santiago asked.

“Lots of headwork, Superbrain. ” Sparky tapped his forehead, gave a big laugh, but he couldn’t hide his emotion, he thinks, his confusion. “It took me a long time, but I finally found you, Skinny. ”

Dressed in beige, a cream-colored shirt, a pale green tie, and he looked tanned, strong and healthy, and you remembered that you hadn’t changed your shirt for three days, Zavalita, that you hadn’t shined your shoes for a month, and that your suit certainly must have been wrinkled and stained, Zavalita.

“Shall I tell you how I found you, Superbrain? I stationed myself in front of La Cró nica for nights on end. The folks thought I was on a spree and there I was waiting to follow you. Twice I got you mixed up with somebody else who got out of the taxi before you. But yesterday I caught you and saw you go into the house. I must say I was a little worried, Superbrain. ”

“Did you think I was going to throw stones at you? ” Santiago asked.

“Not stones, but I did think you’d go half crazy, ” and he blushed. “Since you’re such a nut and no one can figure you out, what the hell. I’m glad you behaved like a good guy, Superbrain. ”

The room was large and dirty, cracked and stained walls, an unmade bed, a man’s clothing hanging from hooks nailed to the wall. Amalia saw a screen, a pack of Incas on the night table, a cracked washbasin, a small mirror, it smelled of urine and from being closed up, and she realized that she was crying. Why had he brought her here? she was muttering, and always lies, so low that she could scarcely hear it herself, saying let’s go see my friend, he wanted to trick her, take advantage, give her a kick in the pants like last time. Ambrosio had sat down on the unmade bed, and, through her big tears, Amalia saw him shaking his head, you don’t understand me. What was she crying about? he was speaking lovingly, was it because I pushed you? looking at her with a contrite and mournful expression, you were making a scandal out there with your stubbornness about not coming in, Amalia, the whole neighborhood would have come asking what’s going on, what would Ludovico have said later. He had lighted one of the cigarettes on the night table and slowly he began to observe her, her feet, her knees, he went unhurriedly up her body and when he reached her eyes he smiled at her and she felt hot and ashamed: what a stupid girl you are. She made her face look as annoyed as she could. Ludovico would be there any minute, Amalia, he’d come and they’d leave, am I doing anything to you? and she you better watch out if you do. Come here, Amalia, sit down, let’s talk awhile. She wasn’t going to sit down, open the door, she wanted to leave. And he: did you start crying when the textile worker took you to his place? Her face grew bitter and Amalia thought he’s jealous, he’s furious, and she felt her anger leaving her. He wasn’t like you, she said looking at the floor, and he wasn’t ashamed of me, thinking he’s going to stand up and hit you, he wouldn’t have thrown me out because he was afraid of losing his job, thinking come on stand up, come on hit me, I came first with him, thinking stupid girl, you’re hoping he’ll kiss you. He twisted his mouth, his eyes were popping, he dropped the butt on the floor and squashed it. Amalia had her pride, you’re not going to trick me twice, and he looked at her anxiously: if that guy hadn’t died I swear to you I would have killed him, Amalia. Now he really was going to dare, now he was. Yes, he jumped up, and anyone else who got in his way too, and she saw him approach decisively, his voice a little hoarse: because you’re my woman, that’s what you’re going to be. She didn’t move, she let him take her by the shoulders and then she pushed him with all her might and saw him stumble and laugh, Amalia, Amalia, and try to grab her again. That’s what they were doing, running around, pushing each other, pulling each other, when the door opened and Ludovico’s face, looking very downcast.