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"
A
manicomio
for
criminal
lunatics
,
"
Agustín
said
.
"
And
I
’
m
getting
out
before
I
’
m
crazy
,
too
.
"
It
is
like
a
merry
-
go
-
round
,
Robert
Jordan
thought
.
Not
a
merry
-
go
-
round
that
travels
fast
,
and
with
a
calliope
for
music
,
and
the
children
ride
on
cows
with
gilded
horns
,
and
there
are
rings
to
catch
with
sticks
,
and
there
is
the
blue
,
gas
-
flare
-
lit
early
dark
of
the
Avenue
du
Maine
,
with
fried
fish
sold
from
the
next
stall
,
and
a
wheel
of
fortune
turning
with
the
leather
flaps
slapping
against
the
posts
of
the
numbered
compartments
,
and
the
packages
of
lump
sugar
piled
in
pyramids
for
prizes
.
No
,
it
is
not
that
kind
of
a
merry
-
go
-
round
;
although
the
people
are
waiting
,
like
the
men
in
caps
and
the
women
in
knitted
sweaters
,
their
heads
bare
in
the
gaslight
and
their
hair
shining
,
who
stand
in
front
of
the
wheel
of
fortune
as
it
spins
.
Yes
,
those
are
the
people
.
But
this
is
another
wheel
.
This
is
like
a
wheel
that
goes
up
and
around
.
It
has
been
around
twice
now
.
It
is
a
vast
wheel
,
set
at
an
angle
,
and
each
time
it
goes
around
and
then
is
back
to
where
it
starts
.
One
side
is
higher
than
the
other
and
the
sweep
it
makes
lifts
you
back
and
down
to
where
you
started
.
There
are
no
prizes
either
,
he
thought
,
and
no
one
would
choose
to
ride
this
wheel
.
You
ride
it
each
time
and
make
the
turn
with
no
intention
ever
to
have
mounted
.
There
is
only
one
turn
;
one
large
,
elliptical
,
rising
and
falling
turn
and
you
are
back
where
you
have
started
.
We
are
back
again
now
,
he
thought
,
and
nothing
is
settled
.
It
was
warm
in
the
cave
and
the
wind
had
dropped
outside
.
Now
he
was
sitting
at
the
table
with
his
notebook
in
front
of
him
figuring
all
the
technical
part
of
the
bridge
-
blowing
.
He
drew
three
sketches
,
figured
his
formulas
,
marked
the
method
of
blowing
with
two
drawings
as
clearly
as
a
kindergarten
project
so
that
Anselmo
could
complete
it
in
case
anything
should
happen
to
himself
during
the
process
of
the
demolition
.
He
finished
these
sketches
and
studied
them
.
Maria
sat
beside
him
and
looked
over
his
shoulder
while
he
worked
.
He
was
conscious
of
Pablo
across
the
table
and
of
the
others
talking
and
playing
cards
and
he
smelled
the
odors
of
the
cave
which
had
changed
now
from
those
of
the
meal
and
the
cooking
to
the
fire
smoke
and
man
smell
,
the
tobacco
,
red
-
wine
and
brassy
,
stale
body
smell
,
and
when
Maria
,
watching
him
finishing
a
drawing
,
put
her
hand
on
the
table
he
picked
it
up
with
his
left
hand
and
lifted
it
to
his
face
and
smelled
the
coarse
soap
and
water
freshness
from
her
washing
of
the
dishes
.
He
laid
her
hand
down
without
looking
at
her
and
went
on
working
and
he
could
not
see
her
blush
.
She
let
her
hand
lie
there
,
close
to
his
,
but
he
did
not
lift
it
again
.
Now
he
had
finished
the
demolition
project
and
he
took
a
new
page
of
the
notebook
and
commenced
to
write
out
the
operation
orders
.
He
was
thinking
clearly
and
well
on
these
and
what
he
wrote
pleased
him
.
He
wrote
two
pages
in
the
notebook
and
read
them
over
carefully
.
I
think
that
is
all
,
he
said
to
himself
.
It
is
perfectly
clear
and
I
do
not
think
there
are
any
holes
in
it
.
The
two
posts
will
be
destroyed
and
the
bridge
will
be
blown
according
to
Golz
’
s
orders
and
that
is
all
of
my
responsibility
.
All
of
this
business
of
Pablo
is
something
with
which
I
should
never
have
been
saddled
and
it
will
be
solved
one
way
or
another
.
There
will
be
Pablo
or
there
will
be
no
Pablo
.
I
care
nothing
about
it
either
way
.
But
I
am
not
going
to
get
on
that
wheel
again
.
Twice
I
have
been
on
that
wheel
and
twice
it
has
gone
around
and
come
back
to
where
it
started
and
I
am
taking
no
more
rides
on
it
.
He
shut
the
notebook
and
looked
up
at
Maria
.
"
Hola
,
guapa
,
"
he
said
to
her
.
"
Did
you
make
anything
out
of
all
that
?
"
