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In Cárdenas the richest man in the block may live next door to the poorest and on that evening everybody was out for a stroll in the cool bay breeze. Now and again somebody called out, “Look, the Three Kings!” and each time the voice was thrilled and reverent. There was mystery in the night. The mules felt it, pricking up their ears, and the horses, catching the murmurs of admiration, tossed their manes and lifted their forefeet higher than they really needed to, showing off.