They had to economise even their candles. But afterwards, in the dark, the interrupted conversation was continued—not very consecutively—from one bed to another.
“Have you seen the band in their new uniforms?”
“Yes.... Farmer Cola has got in a hundred bushels of grain this year.”
“Who knows if it is true? Much good may it do him!”
“To-morrow I will go to the Cavaliere for some oil.”...
“The wine is all gone, too.”
“I will go for the wine as well.... Ave Maria!”
“Pater Noster!” And so they went to sleep.
In the morning, after carefully brushing his shabby and much-mended coat and his rusty hat, Don Mario dressed hastily and began his day by going to mass at San Francesco.... This ceremony over, he proceeded on his errand, hugging the oil-flask tightly under his coat.
He presented himself with humble and ceremonious courtesy.