"I congratulate you," he began with a gentle smile. "Signora Ciambellotti has informed me about you. It is a happy occasion to salute a new star of the Palio."
Giorgio could not answer; he only gulped.
The Monsignore went on, talking more to himself than to the boy. "Vittorino," he spoke the name slowly, elegantly, precisely. "'Victory of the Small One,' it means. I have many boys at Villa Nazareth who look upon you as their hero. To ride in the Palio is to them like riding through the gates of heaven.
"Now," he said, running his hands through his short-cropped hair, "I am truly glad you came. You see, today there are affairs of state which prevent me from going out to visit those boys. But you have come to see me in their stead. Even in their sheltered life they have many problems. Do you, too, have a problem?"
"Monsignore?"
"Yes, my son."
Giorgio plunged one hand into his pocket and his fingers clutched the thin horseshoe. "Do you have enough time for me? With affairs of state and all?"
"As much as you need. You see," he smiled, "I am in charge of extraordinary affairs, and this just might be an extraordinary affair."
"It is!" Giorgio sat up straighter, and suddenly the flood-gates opened. "Monsignore! In the Palio of August the Contrada of Nicchio might not draw Gaudenzia."
"And why is it you wish Nicchio to draw her?"