442
"What sweet wines have you?"
"Marsala, Passito, Aleatico...."
"Bring us some Aleatico."
PARTISAN REVIEW
"So you come from Meolo," said Giacomo, picking up the con–
versation.
"Yes," answered the younger sister. "But I live in Milan and
my sister lives here. Every now and then we exchange visits: she
comes to stay with me or I go to stay with her."
"I don't care for Milan," said Rina. "The winters are too
cold. I've been
ill
and need sunshine."
"What was the matter with you?" Giacomo asked.
"I'm delicate," she explained, touching her chest with one hand.
Her chest was, indeed, almost hollow, as Giacomo had al-
ready noticed. But her deep-set eyes under the fleshy lids had a
vicious expression that aroused his curiosity.
"That's not it," Lori put in. "The truth is she's in love with
someone who lives here."
"What does he do?" asked Giacomo.
"He's in business," said the older sister with the same modesty
with which she had declared that her last name was Panigatti.
"He's a cheese salesman," said the younger, holding two fingers
up to her nose as if to indicate that he smelled of his trade.
Then the waiter brought the wine. Giacomo uncorked the
bottle and poured it into the thick green glasses.
"It's good," Lori said, looking at Giacomo. "Very sweet."
"Aleatico," her sister confirmed.
Giacomo drank his first glassful in a single swallow and poured
himself another. The two women had emptied their glasses too, and
Giacomo filled them and ordered another bottle.
"Where is your friend just now?" he asked Rina prudently.
"He's on the road."
"Oh, there's no danger of his putting in a sudden appearance,"
said her sister with a laugh. "He always wires or calls up. He's a
very good fellow."
"Lori, don't talk about him like that. You don't even know him."
"He's not so very wonderful," Lori said unexpectedly. "You're
quite right to deceive him. I don't blame you."
The older woman said nothing. Giacomo decided that she was
