"My love for Palma Sola knows no bounds these precarious days. I'm so glad to be back. I go about gathering flowers for my vases, setting out new plants, sorting seeds, fixing glass broken by the quakes. "Darling, write to me, by Sofía. She is a palmera woman and knows every trail and I trust her. I love you." Raul read, sitting on a chair, while Sofía stood behind staring at her feet. She was a lanky woman, with loosely combed hair. "Go to the kitchen and eat. Wait for me there," he said, folding the letter. "Have anything you want." He drew a sheet of stationery out of the desk drawer, and sat down and wet his pen in the inkwell. He felt troubled and could not concentrate for he had just left Gabriel: he and Velasco had cupped pus from his wound, dousing it with peroxide and iodine. "Feel it burning?" he had asked. "It's burning." "Good," Velasco had said. "That means live tissue. Your leg will get all right." Only a few days ago, Gabriel had spoken in chapel of the revolution, warning everyone of its insanities. He had pleaded for sanity.... On that very day Captain Cerro had been hanged by a mob on a tree less than two miles away. Raul bit the top of his penholder and began to write. Before he had written five lines, he crumpled the sheet and strode to the kitchen, where Sofía was eating. "I'm going to Palma Sola now," he said. "I'm sending men to look after Lucienne and her place. I'll have my horse saddled. Rest a while here. You needn't hurry." With Captain Cerro dead, trouble could break out anywhere. He would choose good men for Palma Sola. Sanity--there was not much sanity. Yet he felt saner as he rode Chico toward Palma Sola through the mist. Sanity ... was it sanity, taking men from Petaca to guard Palma Sola? he wondered. But it was something like sanity, seeing Lucienne sitting by her front window, at her piano. The green ocean was calm, swirling its pale color out to the horizon. Smiling, joyous, she waited for him to dismount and come inside. She was alone. His spurs clicked, as he came in. "Darling," she said. "Lucienne, I..." He kissed her lovingly. "So sweet of you to come." "I couldn't write. I tried. I had to come." "Sit down. Why, you're soaking wet! Was it raining?" "The palmera, the mist," he said. "Come and change." "Not yet." He put his cheek against hers, his arms about her. Her arms went around him for an instant. Then they heard the sounds of horses arriving and people talking. "Those are my men outside. I brought help, in case there's any need." "What shall I do with your men, darling? How shall I feed them?" "They've brought food. I'll send any further provisions they need. You'll keep them here, as long as you stay." "How are things at Petaca?" "So-so." "That's not much of an answer." "Gabriel has a badly infected leg, caused by a bullet wound." "I heard that someone shot him. How much worse can it get?"