Gianni makes his decision in the time it takes Flavio to say "Uh" a second time. He lunges — not gracefully, but with the committed momentum of a man who has already concluded that dignity is a secondary concern — and his arms close around Aurora, who lets out a sound like a very surprised accordion. Flavio, meanwhile, executes a manoeuvre that no two-year-old should possess the reflexes for: he pivots on one tiny heel and waddles at astonishing speed toward the front of the church, boutonnière-wand raised, now apparently leading his own solemn procession to the altar. Several guests in the nearest pews crane their necks. The organist, bless her, does not. Gianni straightens up with Aurora tucked under one arm like a particularly cheerful loaf of bread, and watches his nephew march toward the bride and groom with the expression of a man quietly revising all of his plans.