He brought me two little vials, put one on the chimney-piece, poured the other into my tumbler, and added a little water.
"There, old fellow," said he; "swallow that, and if you don't get some sleep the chemist who made it up is the greatest liar unhung." "What is it ?' I asked, the glass in my hand, and my eyes on those of my companion.
"I don't know," said he.

"I just told them to make up the strongest sleeping-draught that was safe, and I mentioned something about your case.

Toss it off, man; it's sure to be all right." Yes, I could trust him; he was not that sort of villain, for all that Eva Denison had said.

I liked his face as well as ever.

I liked his eye, and could have sworn to its honesty as I drained the glass.