I didn't take the coin. I want that clear, for what follows: I didn't take the coin, and Inês put it back in her pocket without comment, the way you put away a knife you didn't have to use.
"The other nine surveys," she said. "Tomorrow, eight o'clock, Largo das Portas do Sol. Bring something to draw on standing up."
The other nine places were houses. Ordinary, lived-in houses, with plants in the windows and children shouting on the stairs. In each, one room shown to me alone: a bedroom, a closet, a corner of attic. And in each room, a person who did not move.