"You're back quickly," she said, covering her knees with her skirt. "I was down along the lagoon," he said. "I was playing with the children in the garden and messed up my hair." He tossed his belt and revolver on their bed. Going up to her, he wanted to touch her, stroke her hair, but instead he thought of Lucienne and remembered her smile. Angry with himself, he said, loudly: "I've told Salvador and Manuel that I'm taking over the hacienda. Sectors are in need of grain. People are hungry. I want Velasco to move here and help the sick. I want no more beatings. I can't wait any longer. It's my job now!" Angelina stared at him in the glass, until his eyes found hers, and he sensed her disapproval at once. She did not speak. Her brush in her lap, she was thinking that he was a dumb fool, that from now on stability would be a thing of the past. Still looking at him, she reached for her comb, and her brush fell to the floor. He stooped to pick it up and said, "I'd like to change things slowly." "Your father will fight you," she said. Her fingers rolled her hair into a competent bun. She slid a dark green band of velvet around the pile of black hair and got up and paused by the window. Their room was on the upper floor, facing both front and patio sides, a long, broad room with shuttered windows on each side, allowing cross ventilation, so desirable in the summer. He stood beside her and they watched a boy spin a wooden top in the sunlight by the serpent fountain. Someone was patting tortillas in the kitchen. The smell of stewing beef crossed the patio. "I'm going to the corral and stables. I know the animals haven't been getting enough grain," he said. "What about Pedro?" she asked. "Have you thought of him?" "I'll dismiss him," Raul said. "I wonder whether you can do that?" "What do you mean?" "He works for your father." "Pedro's been a killer long enough. I'll get him out of here!" "Remember, change things slowly," she warned, huskily. "I'll do the right things," he protested. "Pedro will be the first man to go. I can't work with him here. I see no reason for delaying his dismissal. With all there is to do, I want no complications." "Pedro has friends. Talk with Gabriel. Maybe he'll be helpful. Your father will know of your decision by tonight, because someone will tell him. Manuel and Salvador will talk, and the news will travel fast." Angelina's voice had taken on a harsh quality. She stared at the sky, dreading responsibilities. "There are so many of us here at the hacienda," she said. The boy went on spinning his top by the fountain. From the corrals came the noise of a horse being shod: the crack of hammer against nail sounded as if it had all the time in the world behind it. Raul decided to talk with Gabriel. Perhaps Gabriel, who had the hacienda problems at heart, could judge things reasonably.