“Don’t eat any more of that,” he said faintly.
“Eat um all up; velly good.”
“Can one get a drop of brandy here?”
“Dlop blandy? No. Velly nicee ’lack.”
“What’s ’lack?”
“No, no ’lack! lice spilit.”
“’Rack!” I said—“arrack?”
“Yes, allack,” said Ching, nodding.
“Let’s have some—a glass each,” said Barkins; “and look sharp.”
Ching summoned one of the smiling waiters, and the order was given. Then for the first time he noticed that we had not finished the contents of our little saucers.