“Here’s some cognac,” he said. “Fletcher, some glasses. That’s right. It’s early in the day for brandy, but ‘better never than late,’ as Hobhouse would say. We’ll toast Gordon’s success.” He poured for both and the rims clicked.
“To ‘Childe Harold’!” cried Moore.
With the glasses at their lips, a voice broke forth behind them declaiming ex tempore:
“My boat is on the shore,
And my bark is on the sea;
But before I go, Tom Moore,
Here’s a double health to thee!”
Moore dragged away the screen. Gordon was standing by the couch; his tumbled hair and disordered dress showed he had just awakened. His face was flushed, his eyes sparkling.
“You villain!” expostulated Moore; “it’s you we’re toasting.”
“—And with water or with wine.