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Updated: May 21, 2025
I had already drunk mercurey, green Chartreuse, and coffee. I had a violent desire not to drink anything more. I knew my deplorable tomorrows. Still, I would have drunk hot milk, cold water, soda water, or tea. Why should I not have had what I did not object to having? Herein lies another mystery of the private bar.
The other two men were at some distance, in front of a table, on which were two champagne bottles and five glasses, and a plate of cakes. 'Well, I said to myself, 'I'm not going to have any champagne, anyhow. Mercurey! Green Chartreuse! Irish whisky! And then champagne! And a morning's hard work tomorrow! No! Plop! A cork flew up and bounced against the ceiling.
'I KNOW what Mr Loring would like. She opened a cupboard and came back to the table with a bottle, which she planted in front of me. 'Wouldn't you, Mr Loring? It was a bottle of mercurey, a wine which has given me many dreadful dawns, but which I have never known how to refuse. 'I should, I admitted; 'but it's very bad for me. 'Nonsense! said she. She looked at her husband in triumph.
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