Instantly a powerful and delightful fragrance rose, and the thick fumes possessed the air.

Amory threw out his hands blindly, caught dizzily at Rollo, and was half dragged by Jarvo to the open window.
"Oh, I say, sir--" burst out Rollo, more upset over the loss of the wine than he was alarmed at the occurrence.

If it came to losing a good, nitzy Burgundy, Rollo knew what that meant.
"Adon," cried Jarvo, shaking Amory's shoulders, "did you taste the liquor--tell me--the liquor--did you taste ?" Amory shook his head.

Jarvo's face and the hovering Rollo and the whole room were enveloped in mist, and the wine was hot on his lips where the cup had touched them.

Yet while he stood there, with that permeating fragrance in the air, it came to him vaguely that he had never in his life known a more perfectly delightful moment.