Uncle Gianni stops. He considers the wand. Then, with the gravity of a man receiving a papal blessing, he places one hand over his heart and bows — a full, ceremonious, moustache-dipping bow. Several nearby guests bury their faces in their order-of-service pamphlets. Flavio blinks. Nobody has ever bowed to the wand before. He looks at Aurora. Aurora, mid-chew on something she has found in the pew carpet, looks back. Gianni crouches to their level. "Magnifico," he murmurs, and extends both enormous hands, palms up. The boutonnière-wand droops. Then Flavio, satisfied the spell has worked, tucks it proudly back into Gianni's lapel — a gift, freely returned — and takes one great hand. Aurora takes the other. The three of them process in solemn procession back to the very last pew, settling in a row like a small, extremely well-dressed committee. The ceremony continues. The moustache quivers once, with feeling.