He says it’s at least a half an hour more. Go on back Tiny. You’re cold in this wind anyway. It’s a rotten day and we aren’t going to have any fun anyway.
All right, she said, and climbed up the grassy bank.
Peduzzi was down at the river and did not notice her till she was almost out of sight over the crest. Frau! he shouted. Frau! Fraulein! You’re not going? She went on over the crest of the hill.
She’s gone! said Peduzzi. It shocked him.
He took off the rubber bands that held the rod segments together and commenced to joint up one of the rods.
But you said it was half an hour further.
Oh yes. It is good half an hour down. It is good here too.
Of course. It is good here and good there too.
The y. g. sat down on the bank and jointed up a rod, put on the reel and threaded the line through the guides. He felt uncomfortable and afraid that any minute a gamekeeper or a posse of citizens would come over the bank from the town. He could see the houses of the town and the campanile over the edge of the hill. He opened his leader box. Peduzzi leaned over and dug his flat hard thumb and forefinger in and tangled the moistened leaders.
You must have some lead. Peduzzi was excited. You must have _piombo. Piombo._ A little _piombo._ Just here. Just above the hook or your bait will float on the water. You must have it. Just a little _piombo._
No. He looked through all his pockets desperately. Sifting through the cloth dirt in the linings of his inside military pockets. I haven’t any. We must have _piombo._
We can’t fish then, said the y. g. and unjointed the rod, reeling the line back through the guides. We’ll get some _piombo_ and fish tomorrow.
But listen _caro,_ you must have _piombo._ The line will lie flat on the water. Peduzzi’s day was going to pieces before his eyes. You must have _piombo._ A little is enough. Your stuff is all clean and new but you have no lead. I would have brought some. You said you had everything.
The y. g. looked at the stream discoloured by the melting snow. I know, he said, we’ll get some _piombo_ and fish tomorrow.
At what hour in the morning? Tell me that.
The sun came out. It was warm and pleasant. The young gentleman felt relieved. He was no longer breaking the law. Sitting on the bank he took the bottle of marsala out of his pocket and passed it to Peduzzi. Peduzzi passed it back. The y. g. took a drink of it and passed it to Peduzzi again. Peduzzi passed it back again. Drink, he said, drink. It’s your marsala. After another short drink the y. g. handed the bottle over. Peduzzi had been watching it closely. He took the bottle very hurriedly and tipped it up. The grey hairs in the folds of his neck oscillated as he drank his eyes fixed on the end of the narrow brown bottle. He drank it all. The sun shone while he drank. It was wonderful. This was a great day after all. A wonderful day.