The evening that Lucia Marquez opened the door of her new apartment in San Telmo, she had the feeling that she had entered into a painting. The dimness of the dusk in Buenos Aires beamed in through the courtyard, and shone upon ancient mosaic tiles which had endured a multitude of footsteps. The cafe on this side of the street could be heard playing some bandoneon by a nearby band, and the scent of coffee roasting beans had her shutting her eyes and sighing
