those lines,” said Manuel evasively.
“I think you should call up Radamek and ask him if he hopes to be President when the almond trees bloom,” said Alvarado poetically.
The doctor was manifestly not on his best behavior. As if he had noticed that his companion was disturbed, he turned to Manuel Ortega and, gripping his dinner jacket lapel, he said: “Before you go, I’ll just tell you a great and uncontestable truth. Orestes de Larrinaga was a stupid old fool. From every point of view he was a dolt. The stupidest thing he did was to try to do his job properly. I hope you’re too clever to do the same thing.”
An orchestra had begun to play dance music in the corner of the terrace. The sky was black and starry, the air heavy and filled with dust. When Manuel Ortega went looking forthe washroom he saw Danica Rodríguez standing at the cocktail bar with a tall officer in a black uniform. She was drinking whiskey and she glanced fleetingly at her boss. Her eyes were shining and she looked unsteady.
A moment later he saw her again. She was dancing with the same officer and had taken off her shoes. As far as he could judge she danced very well.
Then he met Captain Behounek, who thumped him on the back and talked for a while. Finally he said: “Your secretary is quite a piece though she’s nothing much to look at. My young officers here have gone quite crazy, I see. She gets them like a knife through butter. But now an infantryman has got hold of her. Well, well—these army chaps.”
A little later he ran into his host, who took a flat container out of his inner pocket and said: “You’ll find it difficult to sleep at first in this climate. These are excellent sleeping tablets which my laboratories have just brought out. You’ll sleep like a child and wake up eight hours later—like a child, bright and rested. But never take more than two at a time.”
“Thank you. In fact, I am very tired, and I must be going soon. I can see a hard day’s work ahead of me tomorrow.”
“Oh, don’t overdo things too much. But I understand. I hope we’ll meet again under equally pleasant circumstances.”
Manuel Ortega went across to López, who was sitting on the balustrade ten yards away.
“We’re going now. Do you know where the lady is?”
López pointed at the door near the orchestra platform.
Manuel opened the door and went into an empty room containing comfortable chairs and potted palms. He went straight across the floor and pushed open another door, which was standing slightly ajar.
“Señora Rodríguez?” he said. At the same moment he saw her. She was leaning against the wall inside the door, barefooted and with two buttons of her dress undone. The tall officer was pressed against her and was kissing her. He hadone hand over her breast, under the material of her dress, and the other on her stomach, very low down. She had her hands in his hair.
The officer started and turned angrily toward Manuel Ortega. He had an ordinary, foolish face, and was quite young.
The woman freed herself and took a few nervous steps into the room, took out a cigarette, and lit it.
“I’m sorry. I was just going and only wanted to ask you if we could give you a lift into town.”
“No,” she said curtly and tonelessly. “I’m staying.”
“I beg your pardon.”
The officer grinned complacently and put his hand on her shoulder, but she immediately shook it off.
When Manuel turned to go, he found López standing only a few yards behind him.
“You don’t make much noise, do you?”
“No.”
On the way back he made another attempt at conversation.
“Your colleague, Frankenstein or whatever he’s called, where has he gone?”
The man at the wheel shrugged his shoulders, stuck out his lower lip, and said nothing.
Even his attempt to strike a lighter tone had failed.
The main road was lighted by street lamps which stood fairly close together, but the slums on each side were mercifully hidden by the white
“I think you should call up Radamek and ask him if he hopes to be President when the almond trees bloom,” said Alvarado poetically.
The doctor was manifestly not on his best behavior. As if he had noticed that his companion was disturbed, he turned to Manuel Ortega and, gripping his dinner jacket lapel, he said: “Before you go, I’ll just tell you a great and uncontestable truth. Orestes de Larrinaga was a stupid old fool. From every point of view he was a dolt. The stupidest thing he did was to try to do his job properly. I hope you’re too clever to do the same thing.”
An orchestra had begun to play dance music in the corner of the terrace. The sky was black and starry, the air heavy and filled with dust. When Manuel Ortega went looking forthe washroom he saw Danica Rodríguez standing at the cocktail bar with a tall officer in a black uniform. She was drinking whiskey and she glanced fleetingly at her boss. Her eyes were shining and she looked unsteady.
A moment later he saw her again. She was dancing with the same officer and had taken off her shoes. As far as he could judge she danced very well.
Then he met Captain Behounek, who thumped him on the back and talked for a while. Finally he said: “Your secretary is quite a piece though she’s nothing much to look at. My young officers here have gone quite crazy, I see. She gets them like a knife through butter. But now an infantryman has got hold of her. Well, well—these army chaps.”
A little later he ran into his host, who took a flat container out of his inner pocket and said: “You’ll find it difficult to sleep at first in this climate. These are excellent sleeping tablets which my laboratories have just brought out. You’ll sleep like a child and wake up eight hours later—like a child, bright and rested. But never take more than two at a time.”
“Thank you. In fact, I am very tired, and I must be going soon. I can see a hard day’s work ahead of me tomorrow.”
“Oh, don’t overdo things too much. But I understand. I hope we’ll meet again under equally pleasant circumstances.”
Manuel Ortega went across to López, who was sitting on the balustrade ten yards away.
“We’re going now. Do you know where the lady is?”
López pointed at the door near the orchestra platform.
Manuel opened the door and went into an empty room containing comfortable chairs and potted palms. He went straight across the floor and pushed open another door, which was standing slightly ajar.
“Señora Rodríguez?” he said. At the same moment he saw her. She was leaning against the wall inside the door, barefooted and with two buttons of her dress undone. The tall officer was pressed against her and was kissing her. He hadone hand over her breast, under the material of her dress, and the other on her stomach, very low down. She had her hands in his hair.
The officer started and turned angrily toward Manuel Ortega. He had an ordinary, foolish face, and was quite young.
The woman freed herself and took a few nervous steps into the room, took out a cigarette, and lit it.
“I’m sorry. I was just going and only wanted to ask you if we could give you a lift into town.”
“No,” she said curtly and tonelessly. “I’m staying.”
“I beg your pardon.”
The officer grinned complacently and put his hand on her shoulder, but she immediately shook it off.
When Manuel turned to go, he found López standing only a few yards behind him.
“You don’t make much noise, do you?”
“No.”
On the way back he made another attempt at conversation.
“Your colleague, Frankenstein or whatever he’s called, where has he gone?”
The man at the wheel shrugged his shoulders, stuck out his lower lip, and said nothing.
Even his attempt to strike a lighter tone had failed.
The main road was lighted by street lamps which stood fairly close together, but the slums on each side were mercifully hidden by the white
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