“What kind of agreement?”

“It will say that she consents to have no property claim against me or my estate, not even the ordinary dower right, for five whole years after the wedding. This is so that she will not become my wife and then leave me. But if she sticks to our bargain-if she’s still my wife and living with me on September 9th, 1967-then she becomes my heir. My only heir, suocero. How does that grab you, as they say? Could anything be fairer than that?”

“There’s the little matter of good faith between man and wife,” the prospective father-in-law began; then he stopped and laughed. “No, you certainly have the right to protect yourself under the, uh, circumstances.” He reached over, retrieved the Havana, and relit it. “But, Nino… “

“Ora che cos’e?”

“On September 9, 1967 you’ll be-let’s see-68? Since we’re speaking frankly,” he said through a dribble of Cuban smoke, “I have to raise the disagreeable possibility that you may no longer be with us on that date. What happens to my daughter if you should die before the expiration of the agreement? She’d be left holding a very empty bag.”

“Yes,” Importuna said, “and so would you.”

“But, Nino, that could mean she’ll have wasted up to as much as five years of her young life. That doesn’t seem right-”

“I agree, amico. But it’s a chance she’ll have to take. Is it such a bad gamble? Considering the stakes? Besides, try to see it from my point of view.”

“Oh, I do, Nino. Still, Virginia’s all I have. Her mother is dead, as you know. Not a single relative we know of left on either side-”

“My poor future suocero. I bleed with you. But what do they say? You won’t be losing a daughter, you’ll be winning a son-in-law.”

“So true,” the tall man murmured. “Well, Nino. I can only say I’ll do my damnedest. Oh, yes. About those proofs… “

“What about them?”