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"It would be nice. But you know how decisions are made in the euphoria of the snow, eating caviar and champagne..." 

"Listen, Daughter: on the snow or on the Lagoon, it's the same for me. Gio's mother agrees and tomorrow Mary and I will talk to yours and I don't see why she should say no." he said, taking the direction of the Gritti. "Just consume the stones of Venice: you have to be generous and leave them to others too. And then Mary, with that leg in plaster, will probably already be back from her shopping."

"I'd love to go shopping too. But with little money it can get frustrating." 

"I promise to work hard and well so that I can make a lot of extra lira for your shopping." 

"You forget that a woman cannot normally accept money from a man," I sighed, laughing.

"Listen, Daughter: I have always wanted a daughter and I had three sons and now that I have found a daughter in you I don't see why I couldn't give you some money for your shopping." 

"Because it would be a scam: it is not enough for you to call me Daughter, daughter, because I really don't* become one, even if I think I love you as a daughter."

"This all sounds damn complicated. Let's drink it!" Pope decided. 

We were now in the Gritti bar, near the windows that flanked the terrace. I sat down and lazily stretched out my legs. "I'd like some coffee, please," I said. 

"You risk humiliating the Grand Master. How about a good grape juice instead?"

"Champagne in the morning makes me sleepy. You'd end up having to chat alone. Better a coffee." 

"My young friend is on strike today," Papa said to the barman. "A coffee for you and a bottle of the usual...

*the actual phrase perche io lo diventi davvero seemingly translates to because I really do become one even though it doesn't seem to make sense within the context of Adriana's made point. Thus, I changed it to don't become one.