"Good morning, darling. You're lazy. I've already had a swim." "You should have wakened me." "But you were so comfortable, I just slipped out of bed." "Have you had breakfast, Lucienne?" "I'm waiting for you." "I often think of you working here. Your world is something you can touch. When we were little you had a garden of your own ... all these years this has been your life ... this and your friends." "But has anything come of it?" "I'd like to marry you." "Raul, don't talk that way, especially before breakfast. An agnostic must be left to her plants." "I want to break away.... I want Angelina to live permanently in Guadalajara." She lifted a watering can and began sprinkling seedlings. "Let's be realistic: who broke away first, you or Angelina?" "I can't say." "Really?"' "Really, I don't know ... and what could it matter?" Drops from the watering can fell on her fresh white cotton dress. "This is no way to begin the day," she said. "Let's make it a happy day. I think we should have breakfast." They ate at a square table in her dining room, facing the ocean through many French windows. On three sides, in round bamboo barrels and special boxes, tropical plants grew lavishly, most of them dark green, many of them climbing as high as the ceiling. It was like being inside a miniature park. Barefooted girls served. A girl brought in a blue glass pitcher filled with red roses and placed the bouquet in the center of the table. "I feel better," said Raul. "One should never talk marriage in a greenhouse." Raul grinned. "Has everyone gone home?" he asked. "I think so ... even Roberto." "What was his hurry?" "To get the train in Colima." "He should have waited for me." "I told him you needed sleep ... that I needed you." Mona wandered in and Lucienne fed her pieces of tortillas. Her short-haired terrier appeared and the two dogs raised such a hullabaloo the maids had to chase them outside. "What happened to your baby fox?" said Raul, eating _mamey_. "It got away, somehow. What's become of Vicente's honey bear?" "He's around. Vicente likes him." "How's Vicente doing?" "Fine. He's a great boy." "And what does Angelina write ... or should I ask?" "She wrote strangely." "How do you mean?" "She told about a round of parties, and then made curious remarks about Caterina." "Are you worried about her?" "Something's wrong." But he avoided saying anything more. While a girl removed their fruit husks, they smiled sadly at each other. His hand grasped hers. They wanted to push aside unhappiness. The girl set down a platter of golden-brown _pámpanos_ ringed with sliced limes. "I'd like to walk to the old church this afternoon," he said. "The old church? Why?" "I've always liked it ... let me serve you, Lucienne ... nobody knows how long it's been there. It was a lighthouse for years, wasn't it? I haven't seen it for ages."