“You’ve put nutmeg in this wine?” he said.
“Yes, sir, it’s usual to put nutmeg in negus.”
“I’m very sorry, but I can’t take nutmeg—it makes me bilious. I think I’ll have a bottle of lemonade, after all.”
“Bring him six of cod-liver oil hot, and a mustard-plaster,” said the stout gentleman.
The tall gentleman certainly looked rather delicate. He had a very fair face, and a lot of very fair hair, and there was a generally languid appearance about him.
“I can make you a mustard-plaster, sir,” I said, “if you would really like one.”
“Don’t you mind him,” said the tall gentleman; “he’s only trying to be funny.”
All this time he was pinching the cigar, and looking at it as though it were some nasty medicine.
“I’m afraid this is too strong for me,” he said. “Haven’t you anything milder?”
“Bring him a halfpenny sweetstuff one,” said the stout gentleman.