“Well, don’t stand staring like a black image. Give it to me.”
“For Mr Glyddyr, sir—the boy heard from the sailors at the pier that he was here, and brought it on.”
“Well, then, give it to him; and look here, I’m sure you must have given me too strong a dose this morning.”
“No, sir; Miss Claude measured it before she went. I took the bottle and glass to her.”
“Humph! Feels wrong somehow. Is it fresh stuff?”
“No, sir; the same.”
“Humph! Well, Glyddyr, good news?”
“Ye-es,” said Glyddyr, with a peculiar look in his eyes. “Only from my agent in town. You’ll excuse me now?”
“To be sure. Go round by the bridge and you’ll meet ’em. Dinner at five. Hi, Sarah! Mind that: five.”
“Yes, sir,” said the woman, and she glided like a black shadow out of the room after Glyddyr, who hurried along the terrace down to the beach, where he could light a cigar and smoke.