“Why, it’s just any old medicine-chest stuff, isn’t it?”
“Not much it isn’t! Where did you get it?”
“Grocery or drug store, possibly.”
“Where did you get it?”—his tone was fierce now.
Zelda and Olive exchanged glances and lifted their voices in laughter.
“Somebody’s been in my cellar. There’s no mistaking that stuff!”
“I’ve lost a bet,” said Zelda, mournfully. “I’m almost afraid to tell you that I made a bet against you.”
“Of course you would bet against me.”
“It was with Mr. Leighton. I said it was all bosh about your being able to tell; that it was all alike, and all very disagreeable, and that nobody really knew. He said you kept some of your favorite tipple, that some man in Kentucky gave you, at the club. So he brought a bottle out here for us to test you with. The least you can do is to pay my bet for me. I don’t believe we stipulated what I should give him.”
“I’ll fix that. I’ll give him a bottle of this unpurchasable stuff. He deserves it for his loyalty.”