el.angeleyes-第3节

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　〃I've　never　been　to　Munich；〃　Tori　said　with　a　sense　of　deja　vu。　They'd　had　this　conversation　many　times。
　〃Ah；　to　look　out　on　the　Maximilianplatz　and　dine　on　such　food！〃　Estilo　shook　his　head。　〃Still；　Buenos　Aires　is　home。　And；　after　all；　Munich　is　not　such　a　mysterious　place。　And　the　Germans…ach；　the　Germans　never　change。　That　is　supposed　to　be　their　great　strength。　But　I　have　never　found　much　to　admire　in　stone　and　concrete。〃
　He　guided　her　outside；　onto　the　terrace　that　overlooked　Buenos　Aires。　It　faced　west；　and　one　could　see　the　boundary；　the　end　of　the　city's　lights；　the　darkness　along　the　wind…whipped　plain　where　the　Pampa…Argentina's　great　prairie；　filled　with　cowboys；　ranchers；　people　used　to　a　hard；　dusty　existence　　began。
　Estilo　pointed　to　the　darkness。　〃There　is　where　I　was　born；　schatzie。　Not　in　Germany；　like　my　father。　He　married　the　daughter　of　an　estanciero；　and　I　like　to　think　I　was　born　atop　a　horse。''　He　laughed　abruptly。　〃But　that　may　be　just　another　myth。　My　analyst　says　I　rely　too　heavily　on　myth。　But　she　doesn't　understand。　I　am　half　German；　I；　more　than　most　portenos；　need　the　sanctuary　of　myth　in　order　to　live　with　myself。　I　don't　know　what　my　father　did　during　the　war　and；　God　help　me；　I　don't　want　to　know。　Do　you　think　I　can　tell　my　analyst　this？〃　He　shrugged。　〃It　doesn't　matter；　really。　The　truth　is；　I'd　rather　take　her　to　bed　than　talk　to　her。〃　Estilo　looked　at　Tori　suddenly。　〃And　you；　schatzie。　What　is　the　truth　about　you？〃
　'　'I　thought　we　had　an　agreement；''　Tori　said。
　〃We　do。　Ask　me　no　questions　and　I'll　tell　you　no　lies；　yes？　We　have　helped　each　other　out　in　the　past　without　being　told　precisely　what　the　other　did。〃　He　shrugged。　〃That　does　not　mean　we　don't　know；　eh？〃　Estilo　was　very　grave。　〃But　I　must　tell　you　that　sometimes　you　worry　me。　I　never　had　children；　I　never　thought　I　wanted　them；　I　am　far　too　self…indulgent。　But　I　confess　that　often　I　feel　as　if　you　are　my　daughter。　I　feel　the　urge　to　protect　you　even　though　I　know　that　is　the　last　thing　you　want　from　anyone。〃
　All　at　once。　Tori　understood　that　Estilo　was　afraid　of　offending　her。　She　felt　a　corresponding　rush　of　emotion　that　threatened
to　strangle　her：　thinking　of　Greg；　who　had　only　wanted　to　protect　her。　She　went　immediately　into　prana；　deep；　controlled　breathing　that　sent　oxygen　through　her　entire　body。
　〃You're　very　kind；〃　she　said　at　last。　The　lights　of　the　city　shone　through　the　night；　illuminating　the　undersides　of　lowering　clouds。　The　air　had　turned　heavy；　soon　it　would　rain。　〃And　you're　very　dear　to　me。〃　She　gave　him　a　tiny　smile　that　had　about　it　an　ironic　edge。　〃But　it　is　you　portenos　who　are　mad　about　analysts。〃
　〃In　my　many　years　on　this　planet；''　Estilo　said；'　'I　have　e　to　realize　that　everyone　can；　at　one　time　or　another；　benefit　from　introspection。　You　are　an　extraordinary　human　being。　Tori；　but　in　this；　I　think；　you　are　no　exception。〃
　Tori　smiled；　kissed　him　on　the　cheek；　embraced　him　briefly。　〃Thank　you；　Papa；〃　she　said　in　German。
　Estilo　looked　into　her　eyes；　and　she　was　reminded　of　Ariel；　of　how　the　younger　man　also　had　looked　her　in　the　eyes　this　afternoon　at　the　Cafe　la　Biela；　of　the　different　emotions　the　two　men　stirred　in　her。
　〃Ariel　has　been　searching　for　you　since　he　arrived；〃　Estilo　said。　〃I　think　he　is　smitten。〃
　〃He　is　very　handsome；〃　Tori　admitted。
　〃I　think　he　will　be　good　for　what　ails　you；　schatzie；〃　Estilo　said。
　Tori　laughed。　〃You　sound　like　a　soothsayer。　What　does　he　do？〃
　〃Oh；　I　think　that　depends；〃　Estilo　said。　〃his　business　is　beef…very　boring；　as　he　said。　It's　perfectly　legitimate。　But　I　believe　that　he　has　another　reason　for　being　here：　the　disappeared。　I　think　he　is　conducting　a　clandestine　investigation　into　the　atrocities　mitted　here　in　the　name　of　justice。〃
　〃Interesting。〃
　〃I　was　certain　you'd　think　so；〃　he　said。　Then　he　pushed　her　back　into　the　milling　throng　of　the　party。　〃Go　find　him　before　he　faints　from　anguish。〃　Estilo　was　obliged　to　shout　this　last　in　order　to　be　heard　over　the　din　of　music　and　cacophonous　conversation。
　Ariel　was　dressed　in　black。　In　that　first　instant　when　Tori　spotted　him　through　the　crowd；　he　looked　like　an　angel　she　had　once　dreamed　about。　He　had　no　halo；　however；　and　when　he　saw　her；　he　broke　out　in　a　smile；　his　white　even　teeth　shining；　and　the　image　dissolved。　Angels…at　least　as　Tori　conceived　of　them…never　smiled。
　〃I　thought　you　had　changed　your　mind；〃　Ariel　said；　ing　up　to　her。　〃I　was　certain　you　weren't　ing。〃
　〃Didn't　you　consult　an　adivina〃　Tori's　tone　was　deliberately　sardonic。
　〃I　will　tell　you　a　secret；〃　Ariel　said；　ing　close　to　her。　〃I　put　no　stock　in　fortune…tellers。　But　don't　tell　my　porteno　friends。　They　would　never　understand。〃　He　grinned　at　her。　〃Fortune…tellers　and　analysts　are　sacred　here；　like　cows　in　India。〃
　Tori　laughed；　surprised　at　how　fortable　she　felt　with　this　man。　There　was　a　danger　in　that；　but　only　to　her　self…imposed　exile　from　the　human　race。　Perhaps；　she　thought；　there　was　something　to　what　Estilo　had　said。　Perhaps　she　had　e　down　with　an　illness　for　which　there　was　as　yet　no　name。　She　wondered　if　there　was　a　cure。
　Ariel　said　something　but；　in　the　din；　she　could　not　hear　what　it　was。　She　shrugged　at　him；　pointing　to　her　ear；　and　shook　her　head。
　He　put　his　lips　against　her　ear；　said；　〃Let's　go　somewhere　else。〃
　Ten　minutes　later　they　were　entering　the　Recoleta　cemetery　where　the　esteemed　ancestors　of　the　alta　sociedad　lay　interred　beneath　flower…strewn　earth　and　ornately　carved　marble。　This　was　a　city　of　the　dead；　a　baroque　necropolis　from　which　many　of　the　myths　of　the　portenos　were　born。　From　death　to　life：　there　was　a　certain　poetry　to　the　notion；　at　least　from　an　Argentine　point　of　view。
　The　jacarandas　dripped　moisture；　but　rain　was　on　the　way。　A　low　rumble　filled　the　air；　its　echoes　reluctant　to　fade　away。
　Ariel　led　the　way　as　if　he　were　a　frequent　visitor　here。　The　oppressive　darkness　of　marble　and　stone　ornately　carved　in　the　French　and　Italian　Renaissance　styles　gave　way　to　a　soft　glow；　increasing　as　they　went　forward。
　Soon　they　had　e　upon　a　crypt。　Around　it　were　laid　out　wreaths　woven　of　flowers；　bouquets；　bunches　of　wildflowers。　Under　the　trees　where　the　rain　could　not　penetrate；　the　flames　of　perhaps　a　hundred　candles　flickered。　Into　the　crypt's　face　was　carved；　simply；　EVA　DUARTE。
　〃Here　is　myth；〃　Ariel　said；　pointing　to　the　last　resting　place　of　Eva　Peron。　〃More　has　been　written…quite　erroneously…　about　her　than　anyone　in　this　country。　Was　she　saint　or　demon？''
　〃Perhaps　she　was　neither；〃　Tori　said。　〃Perhaps　she　was　just　a　woman。〃
　〃Well；　don't　let　the　descamisados；　the　shiftless　ones；　hear　you　say　that。''　He　was　speaking　of　the　workers　who　had　slavishly　followed　their　hope；　the　Perons。　〃It　would　not　be　enough　for　them。〃　Ariel　turned　to　look　at　her。　It　had　begun　to　rain；　a　fine　pattering　through　the　trees　that　made　Tori　think　of　airports　and　farewells。　〃You　think　it　is　not　understandable？　Everything　else　has　been　taken　from　them。〃
　〃Even　their　children；〃　Tori　said。　〃Their　future。〃
　〃In　a　very　real　sense；　yes。　Those　that　disappeared　in　the　night　during　Argentina's　reign　of　terror　will　never　be　heard　from　again。　The　disappeared　are　now　only　mute　witnesses　to　this　country's　savage　history。　Oppression　stilled　their　voices　forever。〃　Ariel　looked　out　across　the　sea　of　baroque　headstones　and　crypts。　〃It's　quite　sad。〃
　Stone　angels　surrounded　Tori　and　Ariel；　their　tiny　carved　wings　encrusted　with　the　soot　of　the　city。　Rain　rolled　down　their　cheeks　like　tears　as　they　remembered　the　dead。　The　polished　marble　of　the　necropolis　was　milky；　eerily　luminous　in　the　aqueous　light　from　the　massed　candles。
　〃Does　this　display　mean　that　after　all　this　time　Peronism　still　lives？〃
　〃Only　in　a　sense；〃　Ariel　said。　〃It　is　like　a　dream；　you　see。　The　descamisados　continue　to　hope；　but　now　the　new　leaders　of　Peronism　veer　from　one　political　platform　to　another　instead　of　facing　the　truth：　that　the　true　essence　of　Peronism　is　today　an　anachronism。〃
　Tori　stared　into　the　candles'　flames。　〃Here　the　children　paid　for　the　sins　of　their　fathers。〃　She　turned　to　look　into　his　face。　''Where　is　the　justice　in　that？''
　〃We　are　in　Argentina；〃　Ariel　said。　〃A　place　where　justice　is；　at　best；　misunderstood。〃
　The　rain　drowned　the　candles'　flames；　and　darkness　once　again　enwrapped　the　city　of　the　dead。　Tori　had　the　abrupt　feeling　that　she　and　Ariel　both　knew　what　the　worst　was：　justice　used　as　a　weapon　to　destroy；　and　as　a　shield　behind　which　to　obscure　culpability。
　Ariel　shivered　as　if　the　night　had　suddenly　turned　cold　or　a　spirit　had　touched　the　back　of　his　neck。　〃Perhaps　it　was　a　mistake　to　e　here　tonight；〃　he　said。
　*　'Do　you　mean　Estilo's　party　or　the　Recoleta　cemetery？''　Tori　asked。
　Ariel　smiled；　and　Tori　realized　that　she　liked　his　face。　In　repose　it　was　a　formidable　visage：　stern；　strong…willed；　with　an　almost　defiant　edge…seemingly　far　from　the　bored　businessman　he　claimed　to　be。　But　when　Ariel　laughed；　the　forbidding　cast　disintegrated　into　a　kind　of　boyish　charm　she　found　irresistible。
　She　felt　this　last　odd　and　a　bit　disfiting。　It　had　been　a　long　time　since　she　had　found　anyone　irresistible。
　Ariel　looked　at　her。　〃I　believe　you　have　the　most　extraordinary