The boy reached out, his pets tugging him; he bumped against the wheel of the victoria. Raul felt the cool snout of the cub; quickly, he drew the animal inside, where it sniffed and pawed excitedly at the closed window. Simon whipped up his horses. Cuddling the furry ball under his good arm, rolling on through the night, Raul leaned back in his seat, pleased he had something for Vicente. Then he remembered that Vicente would be in Colima, at school. A flash thought said: Earthquake, and he wondered what had happened to Vicente and his school? He hoped Angelina would greet him happily at Petaca. Why not one more illusion? Life had so many disillusions in it before the end. He told himself he must confess to Gabriel: or had his confessions, through the years, been altogether too revealing? The victoria swayed and he groaned and hugged the bear. At Petaca, he brushed dust and hair from his freshly laundered suit and, holding the bear under one arm, mounted the lantern-lighted veranda steps. A number of servants greeted him. Instead of returning their greetings, he stared at the earthquake damage: the east wing of the veranda had crumbled into a heap of rubble; the cross of Palenque on the roof line had fallen; a section of the garden wall had toppled; stones, adobe, bougainvillaea and honeysuckle lay on the ground. Inside the living room, a hole gaped at the east end. Chavela approached him--as he inspected the damage--her big hands bulging behind her apron. "Don Raul, I ... Madre de Dios, que pasó! Were you badly hurt?" "I'm better." "You were shot ... they shot you, patrón." "Yes ... but where's Angelina? The house has been badly damaged." "She's upstairs, in bed. She's..." "Is she ill? Was she hurt? Why wasn't word sent to me!" "She feels weak, after the quakes, the volcano smoke. We had it bad here." "Take the honey bear, Chavela. Keep it for Vicente." She unwrapped her damp hands and grasped the bear, frowning; she hated all pets, feeling that they stole food from the mouths of children. Her arms smothered the bear, and it clawed futilely. Without saying more, Raul ascended the stairs, glad Angelina had not met the victoria, knowing how painful the sight of it would have been to her.... Above Angelina's bed, there was a jagged plaster crack, where a picture had hung. Propped against bolsters, she held out her hand to him. "Raul, how are you?" "My shoulder's about well." "Manuel said it was a rifle bullet." "Jesús Peza fixed me. Lucky for me he was at Palma Sola." "Sit down, won't you?" "How are you, Angelina? Why are you in bed?" "The quakes. Have you seen what they did to us?" "I've seen some of the damage ... I just came in." She sat up higher, her dark hair flowing around her, her eyes extra brilliant, her willowy body showing through a gauzy pink gown. He sat beside her and tried to enjoy her beauty, the fragrance of her perfume and powder. "What have you heard from Vicente?" he asked.