There were pauses too. Twice I thought she had dropped asleep, but her eyes, which had closed for an instant, immediately opened again with no sign of tiredness or fatigue, as if she had merely closed them in order to see more clearly. On one such occasion, I think she became aware of my rapt gaze, and she closed her eyes again, whether quickly or slowly I can’t recall. Other memories of that night appear to me as truncated or confused. I contradict myself, stumble. One memory does still remain fresh, though; at one point, she, who I had only thought of as “nice-looking” before, looked really pretty, positively lovely. She was standing up, arms folded; out of politeness, I made as if to stand up, too, but she stopped me, placing one hand on my shoulder and obliging me to sit down again. I thought she was about to say something, but, instead, she shivered, as if she suddenly felt cold, then turned and sat in the chair where I had been sitting when she entered the room. From there, she glanced up at the mirror above the couch and commented on the two engravings on the wall.

“They’re getting old, those pictures. I’ve already asked Chiquinho to buy some new ones.”

Chiquinho was her husband. The pictures exemplified the man’s main interest. One was a representation of Cleopatra, and I can’t remember the other one, but both were of women. They were perhaps rather vulgar, but, at the time, I didn’t think them particularly ugly.

“They’re pretty,” I said.

“Yes, but they’re rather faded now. And frankly I would prefer two images of saints. These are more suited to a boy’s bedroom or a barber’s shop.”

“A barber’s shop? But you’ve never been in one, have you?”

“No, but I imagine that, while they’re waiting, the customers talk about girls and love affairs and, naturally, the owner brightens up the place with a few pretty pictures. The ones over there just don’t seem appropriate in a family home. At least, that’s what I think, but then I often have strange thoughts. Anyway, I don’t like them. In my prayer niche I have a really beautiful statuette of Our Lady of the Conception, my patron saint, but you can’t hang a sculpture on the wall, much as I would like to.”