“Who called?” said the landlord, coming in at last.
“Fill this jug again,” said the other, “and be quick about it.”
“Does any one else want anything?” said the landlord.
“Yes,” said the man in black; “you may bring me another glass of gin and water.”
“Cold?” said the landlord.
“Yes,” said the man in black, “with a lump of sugar in it.”
“Gin and water cold, with a lump of sugar in it,” [{107}] said I, and struck the table with my fist.
“Take some?” said the landlord inquiringly.
“No,” said I, “only something came into my head.”
“He’s mad,” said the man in black.