AI-powered
podcast player
Listen to all your favourite podcasts with AI-powered features
Amontiato, I Have My Doubts
Fortunato, like his countrymen, was a quack. But in the matter of old wines, he was sincere. In this respect, i did not differ from him materially. I was skilful in the italian vintages myself and bought largely whenever i could. It was about dusk one evening, during the supreme madness of the carnival season, that i encountered my friend. He accosted me with excessive warmth, for he had been drinking much. The man wore motley. He had on a tight fitting party striped dress, and his head was surmounted by the conical cap and bells. How said he. A montiato, a pipe?