‘Was there some accident?’ asked the servant solicitously‚ following them up the stairs.
And Reinaldo‚ walking gingerly over the rough mats in the corridor‚ said:
‘This whole country is one great accident! Everything was derailed. It is only by a miracle that we are here at all! What a pathetic place!’ And he vented his spleen on the servant; he was in such a foul mood that he would have vented it on the cobbles in the street if necessary. ‘For a year now‚ my one prayer has been: “Please‚ God‚ send another earthquake!” Every day I read the news to see if the earthquake has arrived … but no! A minister has fallen or a baron has risen. But no earthquake! The Almighty turns a deaf ear to my prayers. He protects this country. Well‚ all I can say is that they deserve each other!’ And he smiled‚ vaguely grateful to a nation whose defects supplied him with so much material for his jibes.
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