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stomach does all the work, you just have to eat
     it up. Bravo! exclaimed Tadeus, applauding, do you know what that’s called, Casimira?,
     it’s called a first-class lesson in material culture, I’ve always preferred the
     material to the imaginary, or rather, I’ve always preferred to inflame the imagination
     with the material, the imagination should be handled with care, even the collective
     imagination, someone should have told Herr Jung that food always comes before the imagination.
     I don’t understand a word you’re saying, said Senhor Casimiro’s confused
     Wife, I haven’t studied like you have, I was brought up in a village and never got
     beyond primary school. It’s very simple, Casimira, said Tadeus, all I mean is that
     I’m a materialist, but entirely non-dialectic, which is what distinguishes me from the
     Marxists, the fact that I’m not a dialectical materialist. You’re certainly
     “dialectical”, replied Senhor Casimiro’s Wife shyly, you always have been,
     ever since I’ve known you. That’s a good one, laughed Tadeus, slapping his knee
     with the palm of his hand, Casimira deserves another glass of Reguengos for that! No, said
     Senhor Casimiro’s Wife, you don’t want to get me drunk, do you? That’s
     precisely what you should do, said Tadeus, I bet you’ve never been drunk in your life,
     have you? You ought to drink half a bottle of Reguengos before going to bed with Senhor
     Casimiro, you’d be in seventh heaven, you and your husband. Senhor Casimiro’s Wife
     lowered her eyes and blushed. Look, Senhor Tadeus, she said, it doesn’t matter to me if
     you choose to make fun of me, you’re an educated man and I’m just an ignorant
     woman, but making indecent remarks is another matter altogether, if you don’t treat me
     with more respect I’ll tell my husband. Senhor Casimiro doesn’t mind, replied
     Tadeus, he’s just a dirty old man, come on now, don’t be angry, Casimira, have
     another little drink and then bring us the dessert or whateveryou’ve
     prepared today, we have absolute confidence in your desserts.
    Tadeus lit a cigar and offered me one. No thanks, I said, it’s too strong for me. Come
     on, my fearful friend, he said, try it, you need a cigar after
sarrabulho
. We smoked
     in silence. The parrot seemed to have gone to sleep on its perch, all you could hear was the
     buzz of the fan. Look Tadeus, I said, why did Isabel kill herself? That’s what I want to
     know. Tadeus inhaled the smoke and blew it out into the air again. Why don’t you ask
     her?, he said, since you’re asking me you might just as well ask her. I don’t know
     if I’ll be able to find her on this Sunday in July, I said, I found you because a gypsy
     woman helped me, but how can I find Isabel again? I can help you, said Tadeus, it might be
     easier than you think. Just tell me, I said, were you the one who persuaded her to have an
     abortion?
    Senhor Casimiro arrived with the dessert. It was a plate of yellow cakes in the form of
     little boats. They’re
papos de anjos de Mirandela
, said Senhor Casimiro
     proudly, egg yolks and fruit syrup, it’s all authentic, I don’t like to boast but
     there isn’t a restaurant in Lisbon where you can eat
papos de anjos
like these.
     Senhor Casimiro scuttled back to the kitchen and Tadeus picked up one of the cakes. What did
     you want, my friend?, he said in reply to my previous question, did you want a little bastard
     child with two fathers? I didn’t know about your affair with Isabel, I said, I only
     found out about it much later, you deceived me, Tadeus. And then I asked: Was it yours or
     mine? I don’t know, he said, whoever’s it was, it wouldn’t have been happy.
     That’s what you think, I replied, but I think it had the right to live. Oh yes, said
     Tadeus, and make four people unhappy: me, you, him and Isabel. She wasn’t happy anyway,
     I insisted, it was because of all that that she got depressed, and it was