"I like hunches," she said, nibbling a mango. She thought of Lucienne's mining interests in Guanajuato, and bit into her mango harder than she wanted to. In the morning, Gabriel received a letter that excited him and made him feel better, and he sent a man for Raul. He was having breakfast when Raul arrived. While Storni munched a roll and drank coffee, Raul waited, troubled by his friend's yellow face and fingernails. For the time being, he had no fever or chills, but when would they come again? With a flourish, Gabriel put down his cup, rubbed his hands together, and cleared his throat. Raul glimpsed a coat of arms on the letter. "I had to make you wait a little but now I'll read it to you: 'Dear Gabriel, I have not written you for a long time. Your letters have gone unanswered because I am a careless, busy hulk, as you know. Far busier these trying days than you might surmise. Still, busy as I am, worried by political conditions, I have been thinking of you. You won't be able to say I have no heart, when you lay down this letter. "'I have not forgotten the part you have played in my thinking. I am not always foolish. Years ago we used to discuss things that shape the world. Those were memorable days.'" Gabriel stopped to fix his glasses and wipe his nose, and ask, "Do you know now?" "Roberto." "I'll read on," Gabriel said: "'You have wanted to brighten your chapel for a long time. Since I, too, love Petaca I want to donate the stained-glass windows. In fact, I have ordered them. Salvador got the dimensions for me. The windows are being made in Mexico City; only a small part of the leading has yet to be done. They will be coming to you very soon. "'In remembrance of meaningful days. Perhaps I am religious--who knows? Cordially'...." Gabriel could not speak Roberto's name; tears shone in his eyes. He removed his glasses and blew his nose. "Good for Roberto," said Raul. "Ah, yes," said Gabriel. "Get rid of that malaria so you'll be up and around soon. It wouldn't do to have the windows arrive and you in bed. I'm sure they'll be beautiful," said Raul, ready to leave. "All of us will enjoy them. I wish I had given them." "Ah, to be sure ... well, I can't say how grateful I am.... But I have something else to tell you, before you go. The same man who brought Roberto's letter brought another one. You know how it is: good news and bad news, a pair of horses." "What's the bad news?" "The Colima hospital isn't getting along. They haven't money to hire workers. They're facing a serious situation." "How much money do they need to hire workers?" "Several thousand pesos. Father Gamio tells me that they have to pay more for workers and that ... they wonder if you could help. They mention several thousand pesos, no exact amount." "Shall I send five thousand--for the Medinas?" "God bless you, Raul!" "We need His blessing, Gabriel."