The next day, Lucienne said, "Tomorrow we'll go to Colima," and then postponed then: departure. So, for several days they rode horseback, fished, lolled on the beach, and took walks together. The newspapers carried distressing news and when they read them together they were perplexed and saddened. They knew time was ebbing away. "Of course I must go," said Raul, after another paper had arrived. "I must get back to Petaca.... We must go. I'll leave you in Colima." "We've been lucky," she said. "I think so." "I'll tell Otello to scrape the rust from the carriage." "Let's go on horseback," he said. "No, in the victoria. I have too much luggage. Anyhow, I'm sick of Chico. You should get rid of him. Let him drag along behind us." "He's a good horse." "What was he like as a colt?" "No better." "I thought so." "He'll get better." They were in the old-fashioned room, Raul in seersucker trousers and plaid shirt, Lucienne in gay clothes, a turtleshell comb over one ear, sandals laced high up her ankles. "I suppose you love Chico in a way. I wish we could keep all the things we love," she said, with quiet passion. "I wish we could too," he said. "I hope we're lucky, you and I," she said. "Yes ... lucky, with you, Lucienne. It hasn't been that way with Angelina. She's had her secrets. They are destroying her.... I'm not sure there can be any adjustment. She goes to her room and locks her door. She walks about, talks to herself, comes downstairs with a strangeness about her. I--I think she's out of her mind. Strange ... how she writes. She acts as if I didn't exist, as if I were half alive...." She was surprised by his candor, by his revelations, by his concern. "Will the change to Guadalajara help?" "I doubt it. I really don't know. She may go mad." "Darling, hush, I think you're needlessly alarmed." "No. And I can't talk about it any more ... not now.... But, Lucienne, I need you." "You have me, Raul." "Not by my side." "Maybe it's better that way." "Better?" he asked. "For all of us. Angelina, Vicente." He realized she was straining a point for his sake; her face, her hands, told him she was nervous. They had been seated together. He cupped his chin in his hand. "You're wonderful," he said. "I love you because you stay the same, taking the good and the bad as it comes." "I wish I were really like that," she said. "You've been like that all these years."