"A stimulant?" he repeated vaguely. "What stimulant? Where did you get it?"
"I got it at the store. It's whisky."
"Whisky?" he cried, with a sudden, eager gleam.
Elizabeth was enchanted to find that she had done the right thing.
"Here it is, papa," she said, drawing the flask from her pocket, and pouring a little of the contents into a glass that stood ready.
He watched her with that intense, eager gleam.
"Fill it up! Fill it up!" he cried impatiently. "A drop like that is no good to a man."
He was sitting straight up again, just as she found him in the night. He reached his thin hand for the glass, which he clutched tightly. The smell of the liquor was strong in the room. His eyes were glittering with excitement.
The girl stood beside him, contemplating with affectionate delight the success of her experiment. Her utter innocence and unsuspiciousness smote him to the heart. Something stayed his hand so that he did not even lift the glass to his lips. Slowly, with his eyes fixed upon the sweet, young face, he extended his arm out over the side of the bed, the glass shaking plainly in his hold. She did not notice it; she was looking into his face which had softened strangely.
"Elizabeth," he said.