"You are a druggist, are you not?"
"Yes, sir, a druggist; or, excuse me, more appropriately speaking, perhaps, an apothecary," Mr. Collygog replied, without relaxing the fixed expression of his face.
"You keep a drugstore?"
"Ha! yes, a drugstore; or, you will excuse me, sir, more properly a pharmacy," he answered, nursing the feeble whiskers that grew on his sunken cheeks.
"Where is your place?"
"In Appletop, sir, and directly over the way, facing the Galena road, if you please, and convenient from every part of the city."
"You fill prescriptions and orders for medicine and things of that kind?" Moth asked.
"Yes, and a very delicate duty and requiring circumspection. Yes, certainly, requiring circumspection—and much experience," Mr. Collygog replied, as if deriving great personal satisfaction from what he said.
"Will you look at the bottle partly filled with chloroform, in the possession of the clerk of the court, and tell me if it was put up at your shop?"
"Yes, to be sure, at my pharmacy, if you please," the witness answered, after carefully examining the bottle from different points of view.