Calling Mona, she went toward the altar: she knew that thieves were stealing the Virgin's jewels. Someone must protect her. Lighting a taper, she hurried to the front of the chapel. The Virgin was intact under her watermelon dome of glass. Her tiny olivewood face smiled serenely, and Angelina felt happy. In the wavering light, the diamonds and rubies sparkled, and Angelina knelt in prayer. She thanked God for the Virgin's safety and then burst out: "Oh, Virgin, help me! I have had a terrible quarrel with Estelle. We were so dear to each other. I want so to have at least one friend, someone to love me ... and--and take Mona away from me. Take her away!" She thought she heard a sharp sound. She gathered her nightgown about her and stood up. Carrying the taper, she rushed toward the door, where she listened, her ear against the wood. Perhaps Raul had missed her? Frightened, she thought of going to Vicente's room, seeing his face, touching him. No, he was at school in Colima. She remembered the phantom dog, expecting to see it, and sobbed. Stealing back into the house, she heard Don Fernando coughing. It sounded as though he were in pain, and so she lit a night lamp and took him a glass of water and held it patiently. "Thanks. My throat ... gets dry. What time is it?" "It's night ... sometime in the night." "Go back to bed," he told her. "But I can't sleep," she said softly. He tried to see her, but without his glasses he saw only a white blur. "I've been awake a long time," he said. "A long time." "Are you in pain?" "No. But I keep seeing things," he said. "What kind of things?" she said. "People ... faces mostly. People I've known." "Oh," she said. "Do you remember Lola Navarro?" he asked. "No," she said. The darkness of the room, pierced at either end by the window and the door, seemed to tremble as a breeze came through. "You were just married when Lola lived here with me," he said. "I remember," she said, half-remembering. It felt good to be able to speak, to say anything at all. "Do you remember how well she rode?" He paused, the dark room bothering him. "I miss Caterina..." he said, and his coughing started again and she held the glass, making an effort to steady her hand. Presently, she asked, "Are you asleep?" "No." "I thought you'd fallen asleep." "I wish I could." "I've had a quarrel with Estelle." "You shouldn't have brought her here." "I didn't bring her." "Women without men are no good," he said. Back in bed, she fell into a troubled sleep until peacocks and roosters woke her. She dressed and the shrill pot-rack, pot-rack of the guinea hen annoyed her; it seemed to her the most hideous of hacienda noises. Raul got up and dressed rapidly and as he dressed he told her that he and his men must drive three hundred head of cattle to Colima. At breakfast, he still could not tell her about Refugio. She toyed with her dish of fruit, thinking of Estelle, remembering Guadalajara people.