Adolfo nodded. He dug into his bag and began pulling out dirty clothes. "There was an accident on the bay. An explosion on a yacht. I stopped to assist the police."

"Ah," Norberto said. He stood. "I heard the blast and wondered what it was. Was anyone hurt?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Adolfo said. "Several men were killed." He said no more. Norberto knew about his brother's political activism, but he didn't know anything about his involvement with the General or his group. Adolfo wanted very much to keep it that way.

"Were the men from San Sebastián?" Norberto asked.

"I don't know," Adolfo said. "I left when the police arrived. There was nothing I could do." As he spoke he began throwing the wet clothes over a line strung by the open window. He always brought spare clothes on the boat so he could change into something dry. He did not look at his brother.

Norberto walked slowly toward the old iron stove. There was a small pot of stew on top. "I made some cocido at the rectory and brought it over," he said. "I know how you like it."

"I wondered what smelled so good. Not my clothes." He smiled. "Thanks, Berto."

"I'll warm it for you before I head back."

"It's all right," Adolfo said. "I can do that. Why don't you go home? I'm sure you've had a long day."

"So have you," Norberto said. "A long day and a long night."

Adolfo was silent. Did Norberto suspect?

"I was reading just now that in the same way as God is beneficial, good is beneficial," Norberto said with a smile. "So let me be good. Let me do this for you." He went to the stove and lit the flame with a wooden match. He shook the match out and removed the lid from the pot.

Adolfo smiled cautiously. "All right, mi hermano," he said. "Be good. Even though if you ask anyone in town, you are already good enough for the two of us. Sitting with the sick, reading to the blind, watching children at the church when both parents are away-"

"That's my job," Norberto said.

Adolfo shook his head. "You're too modest. You'd do those things even if the priesthood weren't your calling."

The smell of lamb filled the room as the stew began to warm. The deep popping of the bubbles sounded very cozy. They reminded Adolfo of when he and Norberto were boys and they ate whatever their mother had left for them on the stove. When they were together like this, it didn't seem so very long ago. Yet so much had happened to Spain… and to them.

Adolfo kept his movements unhurried. Even though he didn't have time for this now, he didn't want to give Norberto a reason to worry about him.