“Is that why you did it?”

He walked over toward me and put his hand on my ass.

“Yeah, that’s why I did it,” he said and smiled at me. He dried himself and put on his clothes without speaking again. I drank a good deal of wine with Donald and Susan that night after dinner, and I became convinced that this was a first move, that Donald would stay up late, or offer to drive me home, or find an excuse to visit my apartment in the days that followed. But he did none of these things. He had learned all he needed to know in the shower room.

THE CANETTOS DECIDED to give a party on a Saturday night in early January. It was arranged that Susan and Donald could bring some American oil executives, but most of the guests were old friends and business associates of Señor Canetto. He felt too important to telephone me with inquiries about what sort of evening the Americans would most like, but Jorge rang me a few times a day in the week before the party to ask me, among other things, what music should there be, should the food be traditional Argentinian, should there be a lot of young people, should there be speeches, did the Americans have a guest list, did they know how best to contact the ambassador if they thought that he should be invited. Sometimes, I made up the replies; a few times I phoned Susan and asked her view.

“Do these people not know how to give a party?” she asked. “Do they really expect us to tell them what sort of food to have?” The heat, I think, was making her irritable.

She put on red lipstick for the party and dressed all in white. Donald wore a seersucker suit. The other Americans wore casual clothes and they looked strange, as no one else was dressed casually. I wore a dark suit and a tie. I arranged a limousine to collect the oil executives from their hotel and take them back at a reasonable hour.

Señor Canetto and his wife stood in front of their house welcoming all the guests. She pursed her lips as each person approached her, as though smiling would take too much energy. The Canettos had put lights all over the garden and built a big fire to cook the meat. Cooks in white overalls wandered around, and girls in short skirts offered drinks to all the guests. I noticed a huge Argentinian flag sticking out of one of the upstairs windows, as though the house were an embassy or a presidential palace. There were a great number of middle-aged men and their wives wandering around; I recognized some of the men from the time of the Malvinas. One of them came over and greeted me; others shook my hand. I looked around for the ex-general, but I do not think he was there. I found Susan and Donald sitting by the swimming pool.