el.angeleyes-第3部分

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　that　I　have　found　that　whatever　I　was　reaching　for　is　nonexistent　or；　at　least；　illusory。　I　feel　as　though　in　trying　to　measure　up　to　men's　standards；　I've　been　sucked　whole　into　their　world。　And　I've　discovered　I　don't　like　it。〃
　〃What　does　Estilo　say　to　all　this？　He　met　you　in　the　jungle；　that's　where　you　fell　in　love。〃
　〃Estilo　doesn't　know。〃
　〃But　you　must　tell　him；〃　Tori　said。　〃Estilo　loves　you；　he　wants　you　to　be　happy。〃
　Adona's　liquid　brown　eyes　locked　with　Tori's。　〃Yes；　he　loves　me。　But　happiness；　now　that's　another　matter　entirely。　Estilo　is　the　consummate　businessman…he　lives　for　the　deal；　it　doesn't　matter　what　the　deal　is。　Because　each　deal　is　well…defined；　and　Estilo's　world　is　well…defined。　I　have　spent　so　much　time　and　effort　to　bee　a　part　of　that　world；　and　now；　as　far　as　he's　concerned；　everything　meshes　perfectly。　He　couldn't　let　me　go。　My　role　is　too　well…defined。　If　I　were　to　leave；　a　black　hole　would　appear；　an　undefined　gap　he　could　not　tolerate。''
　〃But　do　you　want　to　leave　him？〃
　Adona　gave　off　a　little　smile；　like　the　glow　of　a　tiny　candle　as　darkness　falls。　〃I　don't　know。〃
　〃Don't　let　him　go；〃　Tori　said。　〃He's　a　good　man。〃
　'　'Well；　at　least　he's　a　little　good。''
　Adona　suddenly　leaned　forward；　kissed　Tori　on　both　cheeks。　〃Go　enjoy　the　party。　Too　much　gloomy　talk　is　bad　for　the　soul。''
　Tori　squeezed　Adona's　hand；　left　her　to　monitor　the　ing　food。　The　rooms　were　filled　with　people…Buenos　Aires'　most　famous　artists；　models；　chantas…　and　smoke；　but　somehow　Estilo　found　Tori；　pushed　a　Kir　Royale　into　her　hand；　kissed　her　on　the　cheek；　murmured　an　endearment　in　German。　He　used　German　infrequently；　only　when　he　was　slightly　drunk；　and　never　in　a　place　where　he　could　be　overheard。　He　was　Argentine；　after　all；　and　had　his　own　myth　to　foster。
　〃It　is　times　like　this；〃　he　said；　linking　his　aim　in　hers；　〃when　I　miss　Munich　most。''　Tori　knew　he　traveled　to　Germany　several　times　a　year。　〃Have　you　ever　eaten　in　Die　Aubergine？〃
　〃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　perh