“I won’t be rough,” the Colonel said. “I could have made a rough response. But please don’t have any emptiness.”
“I’ll try,” the girl said. “I’ve been trying ever since I woke up. I’ve tried ever since we knew each other.”
“Keep on trying, daughter,” the Colonel said.
Then to the Gran Maestro, who had reappeared, having given his orders, the Colonel said, “A bottle of that vino secco, from Vesuvius, for the small soles. We have the Valpolicella for the other things.”
“Can’t I drink the Vesuvius wine with my mixed grill?” the girl asked.
“Renata, daughter,” the Colonel said. “Of course. You can do anything.”
“I like to drink the same wines as you if I drink wine.”
“Good white wine is good with a mixed grill, at your age,” the Colonel told her.
“I wish there was not such a difference in ages.”
“I like it very much,” the Colonel said. “Except,” he added. Then he did not continue and said, “Let’s be fraîche et rose comme au jour de bataille.”
“Who said that?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea. I picked it up when I took a course at the Collége des Maréchaux, A rather pretentious title. But I graduated. What I know best I learned from the krauts, studying them and opposing them. They are the best soldiers. But they always over-reach.”
“Let’s be like you said, and please tell me that you love me.”
