“What shall I call you, poor Haji?” I asked impetuously.
“Call me by the name you have already given me.”
“Fiammiferino?”
“Yes, Fiammiferino.”
“Let’s say Fiam then, for short.”
With this he put out the little sticks of which his arms were made, and caressed the lobe of my ear and asked timidly:
“You are my friend, aren’t you?”
“Certainly,” I replied, much moved.
“You won’t burn me, will you?”
“Never.”