'
"There was nothing gracious in the way he said it--more like a command
than anything else. It nettled me for a moment. I don't like your
buttoned-up kind of a man that gives you a word now and then as
grudgingly as if he were doling out pennies from a pocket-hook. But I
kept still. Then I was on a voyage of discovery. The tones of his voice
jarred on me, I must admit, and I answered him in the same peremptory
way. Not that I had any animosity toward him, but so as to meet him on
his own ground.
"'Then it will he the regular table d'hote dinner with a pint of Chianti
for each,' I snapped out. 'Will that suit you?'
"'Yes, if you like Chianti.'
"'I do when it's good.'
"'Do you like anything better?' he asked, as if he were cross
questioning me on the stand.
"'Yes.'
"'What?'
"'Well, Valpocelli of '82.' That was the best wine in their cellar, and
cost ten lire a bottle.
"'Is there anything better than that?' he demanded.
"'Yes, Valpocelli of '71. _Thirty_ lire a bottle.
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