Every morning the crowd gathers out side the stone mansion at 3036 Calle French: matrons with flowers, shabby grandmothers with pleas for money, knots of angry, middle-aged men. "If Perón were in power, the poor people would not be suffering the way they do," complains one. "We want Perón," says another. "He's the only one who can save us." Then the talk breaks off. A white automobile drives up. A slender, sexy platinum blonde steps out, pausing in her swift walk to the door only to accept a bunch of flowers. "When will the general return?" asks a woman,...
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