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Updated: May 26, 2025
He was seated in a luxurious lounging chair, on the table by his side was a bottle of finest Cognac, and he was enjoying the flavor of a very fine cigar. Notwithstanding all these comforts, Allan Lyster was not happy. "I cannot think," he said to himself, "why she does not send." At that moment he heard a sharp ring at the door bell.
Bottles of cognac and liqueur passed from hand to hand, and seating back on their chairs, they were all absorbing their liqueur in repeated sips, holding at the corner of their mouths the long curved pipes ending in a meerschaum bowl, invariably daubed as if to seduce Hottentots. As soon as their glasses were empty, they refilled them with a gesture of resigned weariness.
And so he preached on. There was only one other person at our end of the caffè, a dark, good-looking man with blue spectacles, who sat at an adjoining table with an Eco d'Italia before him, sipping cognac and sugar.
"Monsieur is too strong for me," replied Gaston, cryptically. He took off his cap, wiped his face, and sat down at the wheel. "If a man is not strong, what is he?" rejoined Magin. "But you will not find this cigar too strong," he added amicably. Gaston did not. What he found strong was the originality of his passenger and the way that cognac failed, in spite of its friendly warmth, to cheer him.
I shall sell this place, and go in for something quieter." And at that moment there came a dreadful diversion. Suddenly, and without the slightest warning, the doors at either end of the room opened. Through the one came two enormous footmen laden with coffee and cream, etc., and through the other Johnson and another powdered monster bearing cognac and other liquors.
When the last one had passed under the instruments, the jefe heaved a sigh, rang his bell for glasses, and the event was celebrated by a final draught of cognac. The man with whom we had expected to arrange for animals had promised to come to the hotel at seven. He came not then, nor at half-past, nor at eight, nor at nine.
I can recall the smell of every hour. In the morning that of eggs frizzling in butter, the pungent cigarette, coffee and bad cognac; at five o'clock the fragrant odour of absinthe; and soon after the steaming soup ascends from the kitchen; and as the evening advances, the mingled smells of cigarettes, coffee, and weak beer.
"No objections, I'm sure," said Plunkett, dropping into his chair heavily. "I'm hungry myself. I didn't want to accept the hospitality of you folks without giving you notice; that's all." Reeves set bottles and glasses on the table. "There's cognac," he said, "and anisada, and Scotch 'smoke, and rye. Take your choice."
"The moment you get Anstruther's reply," decisively replied Johnstone. "I'll be away for a couple of weeks in all!" Hawke turned paler than his wont, but he mused in silence and cheerfully finished his coffee and cognac.
'I'll drive back and get the chloral. When the apothecary was gone, Mr. Jardine's first act was to telegraph to the London physician, his next, to put the unused bottles of cognac under lock and key, and, with Towler's help, to clear away the empty bottles without the knowledge of the servants. No doubt every member of the household knew the nature of Mr.
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