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Show 165 the sky, the wind. You can read the weather in the faces of the men who work this ship, the Aurelia, just as you can with any sailor at sea. If you are up early in the morning to watch and they are at their stations on time, you might worry. If they are quick and nervous to do their jobs, you have reason to be anxious. We have had some high seas but none rough. Mostly the skies have been clear. It has been enjoyable, the food excellent, and these days at sea I have gotten more sleep than is my custom-although I am still up every morning before it is light. It has been relaxing, and even if I have not yet found a place to land, as Paco expects of me, it has been pleasant to put soil and pavement behind. The sun has set and the woman has disappeared. She passed me in leaving and smiled. I smiled back. Her eyes proved brown and very large, her complexion dark, and I saw that she was older than I first thought, perhaps thirty-five, and prettier. She looked Jewish. And the quiet message on her face, behind the coded smile, was easy enough to read. Paco. It is he I must thank for these pleasant days and nights at sea. I met him in a cafe in Cordoba where I had gone to hear some popular singer whose name I have already forgotten. I was standing |