"Who the devil are you?" she
demanded. "Where's Walters?"
"Out on bail," Rand told her. "Don't you remember?"
"Oh, you did this to me!" she accused. "Walters could always fix me up,
in the morning. Now what am I going to do?"
"You might stop drinking," her husband suggested mildly.
"Oh, just stop breathing; that would be better all around," Nelda
interposed.
Ritter coughed delicately. "Begging your pardon, ma'am, but I've always
rawther fawncied myself for an expert on morning-awfter tonics. If you'll
wait a moment--"
He departed on his errand of mercy, returning shortly with a highball
glass filled with some dark, evil-looking potion. He set it on the table
in front of the sufferer and poured her a cup of coffee.
"Now, ma'am; just try this. Take it gradually, if I may suggest. Don't
attempt to gulp it; it's quite strong, ma'am."
Geraldine tasted it and pulled a Gorgon-face. Encouraged by Ritter, she
managed to down about half of the mixture.
"Splendid, ma'am; splendid!" he cheered her on. "Now, drink your coffee,
ma'am, and then finish it. That's right, ma'am. And now, more coffee."
Geraldine struggled through with the black draft and drank the second cup
of coffee. As she set down the empty cup, she even managed to smile.
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