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Updated: May 19, 2025
So we drank in salute of Italy. They sent their greeting by me. 'You know in Italy there is the sun, the sun, said Alfredo to me, profoundly moved, wet-mouthed, tipsy. I was reminded of Enrico Persevalli and his terrifying cry at the end of Ghosts: 'Il sole, il sole! So we talked for a while of Italy. They had a pained tenderness for it, sad, reserved.
No; they pressed me to go, they wanted me to go with them, they were eager, they wanted to entertain me. Alfredo, flushed, wet-mouthed, warm, protested I must drink wine, the real Italian red wine, from their own village at home. They would have no nay. So I told the landlady. She said I must be back by twelve o'clock. The night was very dark.
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