"Father set fire to his bed while you were gone," she said.
"What ... was he smoking?"
"Cigarette or matches ... anyhow, Chavela threw water on him."
His face brightened.
"She threw it all over him."
They laughed together, a little ashamed of their disrespect.
"How he must have spluttered," said Raul.
"Oh, he did, he really did! And while you were away, the optometrist came to fit his glasses. They had a time. But he'll have new ones tomorrow. The doctor thinks he'll be able to see fairly well."
"I hope so," Raul said, though Velasco had told him that glasses would not remedy his father's eye condition or would be temporary, at best.
He enjoyed the dinner, his first meal since morning. The new maid served steak, dry rice, sliced tomatoes and tortillas. She poured a dark Spanish wine. For dessert he ate a flan, hot chocolate and pan dulce. The bright face of the village girl went in and out of the blue lamplight, as Angelina talked.