"Yes, Papa." The syrupy medicine went back into the bottle. Gusts swirled through the garden, and the rain-heavy foliage bent low; window curtains fluttered, their red and white cotton billowing now inside, now outside. "Papa, can I give Mona to Lucienne? I want to. Papa, will you read to me?" He did not answer her question about the dog. Mona had been Caterina's pet for over two years. What was her insight into his relationship with Lucienne? Was she expressing approval ... did she feel she was about to die? "Yes, yes, I'll read to you. What would you like? Your Grillo?" The _Grillo_ was an Italian book about the adventures of a cricket. "Yes, Papa ... Grillo." By the time he found the book, she had fallen asleep. The cricket, printed in orange on the cover of the novel, crept away from his hands. Sparks of lightning whisked over the blue and white pattern of floor tiling. He laid her book lovingly on the circular table, cluttered with the child's things: cutouts, a sewing kit, some dried figs, doll dishes.... It was a small corner room, with white enameled furniture. Above her bed hung a pastel portrait of her mother. The portrait, done with too obvious care, was gilt framed, and dangled from a long wire. The picture began to sway. "Another quake," said the nun, from her chair by the window. "That's the third." They stared at each other questioningly. Sister Carmela fingered her beads, and shivered. She hated quakes, and remembered the devastation caused by the last big shock in Colima. The quake lasted a little longer than the others; the dolls rocked together on the floor; a dish clattered; someone shouted, "Don Raul, Don Raul!" Stepping to the window on the patio side, Raul saw Salvador. "A tree has blown down on the stable. Can you come?" Salvador shouted. "I'll be down." Raul went down the stairway. Angelina stood on the bottom steps, a cup of broth in her hands. "Raul, there was another quake.... How is Caterina?" "No better. Her stomach pains her a great deal. She's asleep." "I'll go up anyway. Maybe she'll wake soon and have some broth." They passed one another without really seeing one another. "Your father wants to know how Caterina is," Angelina said, as she went up. "I'll tell him." He crossed the hail-splattered patio to his father's room, resenting the chill. Fernando had ordered his bed moved--to avoid seeing the distorted landscape. He now faced the patio and Raul paused in the doorway, sensing his father's gaze. "How is she?" he asked. "I'm afraid she's worse." "You're afraid, poor boy! Why don't you do something to help?" "Velasco has gone to Guadalajara. He'll be back with new medication tomorrow." "You'll let her die." "Not if we can help it." "I'm going up to her room." "You couldn't make it up the stairway." "Men can carry me," he said savagely. "Or have all the men at Petaca become too weak!" Raul turned to leave, but waited a moment.