Giorgio's heart quickened. Maybe some people would call "Vittorino" a nickname, he thought, but to me it seems a very nice title.
"The battle was not as fierce as expected," the article went on. "The fantinos did not use their nerbos, for Gaudenzia was first from beginning to end. The masterful performance of horse and rider together has given the youngest fantino in the Palio his new name. Henceforth he will be known as Vittorino."
"Vit-to-ri-no!" the boy tasted it on his tongue.
General Barbarulli beamed. "It pleases you? No?"
"Si, si! It is better than Professore or Dottore or even ..." the boy reddened.
"Better even than Generale?" the General's eyes twinkled. "I agree! It is a beautiful laurel, invisible, to wear with honor and pride. And now we have many weeks for rejoicing." He sighed happily as he folded his own newspapers. "Then in September, when nights are cool, we will hold our Victory Dinner right in the middle of Via Giovanni Du Pré. A thousand places will be set under the stars, and Gaudenzia will be the guest of honor. At the head table she will be served! And you, Vittorino, can feast your eyes and your stomach without even making a speech. It will be your and Gaudenzia's grand triumph. Now, then, I have much to see about and must be on my way."
He shook hands briskly, turned on his heel, and went lightly down the stairs.
