It is largely imagination." Iris needed no second bidding.

She carefully measured out half a pint of the unsavory fluid--the dregs of the casks and the scourings of the ledge.
"I will drink first," she cried.
"No, no," he interrupted impatiently.

"Give it to me." She pretended to be surprised.
"As a mere matter of politeness----" "I am sorry, but I must insist." She gave him the cup over his shoulder.

He placed it to his lips and gulped steadily.
"There," he said, gruffly.

"I was in a hurry.