"But, Mamma, how do you know all this?"
"I know because young Arturo, a boy from the Maremma, is there. He says so."
"You mean I should go all the way to Rome? To the Vatican?"
The mother nodded. "You should go, even if it costs dear. In the sugar bowl there is money. Yours and Gaudenzia's," she smiled, "from the victory of Onda." She stopped to pinch off a few faded flowers from the pots in the window. Then she went back to the stove. "There comes a time," she said, turning to look right at Giorgio, "when to make a pilgrimage is necessary for peace of the mind."
A far look crept into the boy's eyes. Suddenly he burned with the urge to go to Rome.
