"You sent him after Farias."
"I wanted to involve those Jesuits. I hate those bastards. I wanted to work up a little trouble ... we've always had difficulties with the del Valle people." He sounded extremely tired; a flip of his fingers sent his cigarette somersaulting across the tiles.
Raul saw himself in his father's mirror; he shut his eyes and bit his pipe stem.... In Guadalajara, his father had said: "I sometimes see him...."
"You think in terms of morals," Fernando went on. "We don't live in a moral age. Do you believe Díaz is a moral president? Surely, at your age, Raul, you're not that blind! You're not moral yourself—if we come to that. I've never been moral but you, well, you seem to feel you're God himself!"
Raul wished he could forget the decayed face, the glaring eyes.
"I don't like what you've said."
Fernando chortled.
"You and your Lucienne don't like a lot of things, I gather. She hides in her flowers and you hide in her lap."
Raul jabbed his pipestem at Fernando. "You hired Pedro; he's been your private assassin; get rid of him."
Fernando's lips collapsed. His eyes slapped shut. House noises filled the room.