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He went past Leticia, who did not move, so that he had to brush against her, and into the courtyard. There he waited behind a tree while his guide knocked on the door, was greeted by a man Clay could not see, and entered. ired a sat- isfactory vocabulary and a constantly deepening understanding of God's ways with rural communities. 'You were heroic, matador,' she said.

'Because you make a fortune on the bad bulls you sell,' I suggested. ' %hy are you so angry with Father L6pez?' I asked and she rephed: 'Not him. ' In considerable agitation, Father 1. A hurried phone call from a village of two thousand in remote Jalisco would suffice for July, and in August there might be nothing.