“That’s it. All for fun. Fun, you understand.”

“You’re not an aficionado?”

“Me? What are bulls? Animals. Brute animals.” He stood up and put his hand on the small of his back. “Right through the back. A cornada right through the back. For fun⁠—you understand.”

He shook his head and walked away, carrying the coffeepots. Two men were going by in the street. The waiter shouted to them. They were grave-looking. One shook his head. “ Muerto! ” he called.

The waiter nodded his head. The two men went on. They were on some errand. The waiter came over to my table.