"I'm giving it up. I won't risk more lives. We can't go on defending the house indefinitely. We'll save what we can, before all is lost." He remembered the broken box of dominoes. Hands in his pockets, he faced Gabriel, savage disappointment on his face.
Gabriel had removed his glasses and was wiping his eyes. He wished he need not reply.
"Of course ... yes," he said, wanting proper words, feeling Raul's gaze. "Yes ... Raul ... you must."
What would Raul do? Live in Colima perhaps? Perhaps Guadalajara? In spite of his weariness, in spite of his sadness, a ray of hope returned: could it be Italy, before he died?
Velasco appeared on the veranda and waved something. Raul turned toward the steps.
"Someone's hurt," he said.
"I'll come," said Gabriel, putting on his glasses.
Raul said, going up the steps:
"I'll look after you, Gabriel. Perhaps I can hold my land ... I'll fight for the property ... I'll do what I can for you."
He repeated his words to himself. They seemed impossibly clumsy; the whole situation was impossible.