"So, what should I do?"
Archie waved his hand. "Oh, well, that's the easy part. Stay away from her: your problem's kaput."
I sneered. "Great advice. You know it's not that easy."
He did know, of course, but he wanted me to say it" (19. 16-19).
Like so many of Archie's words, they seemed not to enter through my ears but to settle on my skin, there to burrow like tiny eggs awaiting the rain of my maturity, when they would hatch and I at last would understand (19.39).
"He says it all boils down to this—if I'm translating correctly: Whose affection do you value more, hers or the others'?
The Señor says everything will follow from that."
I wasn't sure I understood the Señor any more than I understood Archie half the time, but I said nothing, and I went home (19.52).