It was only this FIRST time that it galled me to the quick.

Ferrari noticed nothing of my emotion--he was in excellent spirits, and turning to the waiter, who had lingered to watch us make each other's acquaintance, he exclaimed: "More coffee, garcon, and a couple of glorias." Then looking toward me, "You do not object to a gloria, conte?
No?
That is well.

And here is MY card," taking one from his pocket and laying it on the table.

"Guido Ferrari, at your service, an artist and a very poor one.

We shall celebrate our meeting by drinking each other's health!" I bowed.