“I’m sorry, you people,” Hilary said; “I was afraid that that would happen. I’m too weak to do this kind of thing: now it is gone.”
“No, no, it is not,” Margarita said. “Wet your handkerchief in it, then drink that, or mop your forehead with it.”
“Well thought of,” Sard said.
“I say,” Hilary said, “this is not water: it is that what’s-its-name, the white brandy these fellows drink.”
“Drink some, drink some, then.”
“I’m drinking. I say. You may say what you like. It makes me feel a different being.”
“Splash your brows with it.”
“I will. And I will save this. There’s about a tumblerful. And, good Lord, I say, I say!”
“What? What have you found in the tray?”
“Bunches of keys. Look here. Two bunches of keys. I may be able to unlock your padlocks.”