He opened his eyes.
"Will you have ... a drink?"
"But you...?"
"I've got plenty, don't you worry. I noticed ... your water-bottle is leaking, isn't it?"
"Yes, I don't know how it happened. It's very troublesome."
"Hand me your drinking cup. There now. Wait a minute!" I half-filled it for him, added a few drops of Ricqles, and pulling my mess-tin out of my haversack offered him some sugar. He took two pieces, but greedily drank a mouthful without waiting for it to melt.
"Thanks; my throat was so terribly parched."
A wave of red flooded his cheeks.
"You're a good sort, Dreher."