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wants to —” she then said.
    “Let’s go to the wineshop down below,” I suggested.
    “Wherever you like,” replied Gino.
    Mother said she had to go and take off her apron, and we were left alone. I was full of innocent joy; I felt I had won an important battle, when in reality the whole thing was a play and the only person not acting a part was myself. I went up to Gino and before he could push me away I kissed him impulsively. The relief from all the anxiety that had troubled me for so long, the conviction that from now on the way was open for my marriage, my gratitude to Gino for his polite attitude to my mother, were all expressed in this kiss. I had no hidden purpose, I was entirely wholehearted in my love for Gino; and in my affection for my mother, I was sincere, trusting and naive, like any eighteen-year-old before disillusionment has brushed off the bloom. I did not learn until much later on that very few people like this kind of candor or are moved by it; for it appears ridiculous to most people and above all pushes them to be cruel.
    We all three went out to the bar round the corner, just beyond the city walls. Gino took no further notice of me when we were seated, but gave himself up entirely to my mother, with theobvious intention of winning her over. This desire of his to ingratiate himself with Mother seemed perfectly logical to me, and I therefore paid little heed to the grossest forms of flattery and adulation he was expending upon her. He called her signora , a mode of address that was quite new to Mother, and he was careful to repeat it as often as he could, at the beginning or in the middle of his sentences, like a refrain. And then quite casually he would say, “You’re so clever, you’ll understand —”
    “You’ve had experience, there’s really no need to tell you some things —” or again, even more briefly, “With your intelligence —” He even managed to tell her that at my age she must have been handsomer than I. “How can you tell?” I asked him, a little annoyed. “Oh! It’s quite plain to see — there are some things one just doesn’t need to be told,” he replied, in a genial and flattering tone. Mother, poor thing, stared at him with her eyes popping out of her head as he buttered her up in this way; she made radiant, coy, simpering faces. Then again I would see her lips moving as she silently repeated to herself the fulsome compliments he had showered upon her. It was obviously the first time in all her life that anyone had talked to her like this; and her thirsting heart seemed to be able to drink in his words forever. As far as I was concerned, these falsehoods seemed to show nothing other than affectionate respect for my mother and kind regard for me; and so I only had to add one more stroke to the already overcharged picture of Gino’s perfections.
    Meanwhile a group of young men had come in and sat down at a table near ours. One of them, who seemed to be drunk and kept on staring at me, gave voice to an obscene but at the same time flattering remark about me. Gino heard it and got up immediately and went over to the young man.
    “Would you mind repeating what you said!” he exclaimed.
    “What the hell’s it got to do with you?” asked the young man, who was really drunk.
    “This lady and this young girl are with me,” said Gino, raising his voice, “and as long as they’re with me their business is my business. Get it?”
    “I get it, don’t worry — all right, it’s all right,” answered the young man, intimidated. The others seemed to be hostile to Gino, but did not dare to take their friend’s side, while he, pretending to be even drunker than he was, filled a glass and offered it to Gino, who refused it with a wave of his hand. “Won’t you drink?” shouted the young tippler. “Don’t you like wine? You’re wrong — it’s good wine. I’ll drink it myself.” And he gulped it down in one breath. Gino stared at him sternly for a