‘You had no money for your fine?’ and watched another smut edge out between the leaves, scurrying for refuge: in this heat there was no end to life. ‘No.’ ‘How will you live?’ ‘Some work perhaps …’ ‘You are getting too old for work.’ He put his hand suddenly in his pocket and pulled out a five-peso piece. ‘There,’ he said. ‘Get out of here, and don’t let me see your face again. Mind that.’ The priest held the coin in his fist—the price of a Mass. He said with astonishment, ‘You’re a good man.’
