"It's gotten dark so fast," she complained. "What a rain! Do you want me to light the kerosene lamp?"
"Later," Angelina said. "Bring me my cup of coffee."
"I'll bring it right away."
Angelina poured at the desk, mixing her particular concoction of strong coffee and hot milk, pouring the milk from a diminutive Turkish pot of brass. As she drank, she heard Gabriel coming in. She liked Storni and rose to welcome him.
Slipping off his poncho, spreading it over the back of a chair, he kissed her hand and brought a chair close to the desk. Because of the damp, he limped heavily. His robe smelled of dried straw; noticing the smell, she held up her handkerchief and said:
"The coffee's just right. I'll ring for a cup."
"Hot coffee—on an evening like this! Where's Raul?" He was naïvely captivated by her perfume and her old-fashioned dress.
"Raul's gone to see about a dam that cracked in the quake."
"We'll need all the water we can save, before our dry season ends," he said.
She hid her feet under her skirt and played with the diamond cross at her throat.