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Updated: May 26, 2025
The door of the inner office behind the dispensary opened, and an energetic, spade-bearded man stepped forth, rubbing his hands. "I want a bit of tin-foil, Shaynor," he said. "Good-evening. My uncle told me you might be coming." This to me, as I began the first of a hundred questions. "I've everything in order," he replied. "We're only waiting until Poole calls us up. Excuse me a minute.
"Perhaps it was the chloric-ether." "Oh, he's all right." The spade-bearded man glanced at him pityingly. "Consumptives go off in those sort of doses very often. It's exhaustion... I don't wonder. I dare say the liquor will do him good. It's grand stuff," he finished his share appreciatively. "Well, as I was saying before he interrupted about this little coherer.
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