But Enrico Mallin and Roberto Lauffer both heard von Wachtstein's name, and it caught their attention.
It soon became apparent that while Father Welner had apparently told both Humberto and Beatrice that Clete and Dorotea were to be married, he appar-ently told them separately, and left Dorotea's pregnancy out of the version for Beatrice.
The minute the priest showed up, just before they were going into dinner, Beatrice went after him.
"I don't want to talk about it at dinner," Beatrice said, "but I don't want to hear one more word about a small wedding here, and in the next few weeks. That's simply out of the question. What would people think?"
The faces of Se¤or and Se¤ora Mallin made it clear they had already con-sidered what people were going to think.
"I agree," Welner said, "that it is not a matter we should talk about at dinner."
Beatrice then talked about nothing at dinner but the wedding she thought Dorotea and Clete should have, starting with a detailed account of her own wedding, and moving through weddings she thought had been "done well," and then on to the relative merits and disadvantages of celebrating the Frade-Mallin nuptials at Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo or in the city.
Hardly touching her food, Dorotea sat through it all with her head bent.
It was only with a great effort, buttressed with pity, that Clete was able to keep himself from taking Humberto into the corridor and asking him, for Christ's sake, to shut his blabbering wife up.
And seeing the looks she was getting from Enrico Mallin, he was surprised that Mallin didn't say something to her.
It was Mallin, however, who finally ended it.
The coffee had just been served, and with it snifters of cognac. Antonio moved to each of the men, offering cigars from a humidor.
Mallin suddenly pushed himself away from the table and lurched to his feet, knocking over his chair, his wineglass, his water glass, and his untouched cognac snifter. The heavy crystal water glass fell onto the snifter, smashing it. He didn't seem to notice; but his wife's hu
miliation showed on her face. Little Henry giggled.
"With your kind permission, Cletus," Se¤or Enrico Mallin said, carefully pronouncing each syllable, "we will ask to be excused. It has been a long day, and we have a busy day tomorrow."
"Of course," Cletus said, rising to his feet.
The perfect end, Clete thought, to a perfectly lousy dinner.
The Mallins left the dining room. Dorotea didn't even look at Clete.
"I think Beatrice and I should get our rest too," Humberto said.
"But I'm talking to Cletus about his wedding!" she protested.
"You can talk to him tomorrow, darling," he said, and stood behind her chair until finally she got up.
"Poor woman," Father Welner said after they were gone. And then he rose out of his chair. "I'll pass on the brandy, Cletus. I've had a busy day myself."
He touched Cletus's shoulder, nodded at Roberto Lauffer, and walked out of the dining room.
"It would appear, mi amigo," Clete said, "that we get all the cognac."
"I don't think, mi amigo, that we should drink all of it, but one... a stiff one..."
"Thank you for..."
"Poor woman," Roberto said, obviously quoting the priest.
He raised his glass to Clete, and Clete clinked glasses with him.
"Roberto, I would like to ask you a favor."
"Anything within my power."