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Chapter 35

           Irowedupoppositethefisherman’sislandwheretherewereboatsdrawnupandmenweremendingnets.

           "Shouldwegetadrink?"

           "Allright."

           Ibroughttheboatuptothestonepierandthebarmanpulledintheline,coilingitonthebottomoftheboatandhookingthespinnerontheedgeofthegunwale.Isteppedoutandtiedtheboat.Wewentintoalittlecafé,satatabarewoodentableandorderedvermouth.

           "Areyoutiredfromrowing?"

           "I’llrowback,"hesaid.

           "Iliketorow."

           "Maybeifyouholdthelineitwillchangetheluck."

           "Allright."

           "Tellmehowgoesthewar."

           "Rotten."

           "Idon’thavetogo.I’mtooold,likeCountGreffi."

           "Maybeyou’llhavetogoyet."

           "Nextyearthey’llcallmyclass.ButIwon’tgo."

           "Whatwillyoudo?"

           "Getoutofthecountry.Iwouldn’tgotowar.IwasatthewaronceinAbyssinia.Nix.Whydoyougo?"

           "Idon’tknow.Iwasafool."

           "Haveanothervermouth?"

           "Allright."

           Thebarmanrowedback.WetrolledupthelakebeyondStresaandthendownnotfarfromshore.IheldthetautlineandfeltthefaintpulsingofthespinnerrevolvingwhileIlookedatthedarkNovemberwaterofthelakeandthedesertedshore.Thebarmanrowedwithlongstrokesandontheforwardthrustoftheboatthelinethrobbed.OnceIhadastrike:thelinehardenedsuddenlyandjerkedback.Ipulledandfelttheliveweightofthetroutandthenthelinethrobbedagain.Ihadmissedhim.

           "Didhefeelbig?"

           "Prettybig."

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