"Hola?"
"Clete?" Dorotea's voice made his heart jump.
"Hi, Princess."
"I've been trying for hours to get you."
"How did you know I was here?"
"Your grandfather called Daddy. Daddy told me."
"How are you?"
"I'm all right," Dorotea said. "Clete, I can't tell you how devastated I am by what happened to your father, how sorry I am for you."
"Thank you."
She seems hesitant about something. Distant.
"I have something to tell you, Clete."
"Tell me."
"Not over the telephone. I want to be looking at you when I tell you."
"Tell me now, and look at me later."
"Damn you! This is very important."
"So what do you want me to do? I don't suppose you can come here. Do you want me to come there?"
"God no! Daddy would have kittens."
"OK. Then what?"
"Where are you going to be first thing in the morning?"
"At nine o'clock, I'll be at the church."
"Our Lady of Pilar?"
"Right."
"Will you be alone?"
"I don't think so, but we can find someplace to talk, if that's what you're asking."
"All right, I'll see you there."
"Fine."
"Cletus, I am so sorry for you."
"I'll be all right."
"I'll see you at nine, or a little after," Dorotea said, and the line went dead.
He put the ornate receiver back in its cradle.