“It will be necessary, I think,” he observed, “to wind up Mr. Dolls, before anything to any mortal purpose can be got out of him. Brandy, Mr. Dolls, or⁠—?”

“Threepenn’orth rum,” said Mr. Dolls.

A judiciously small quantity of the spirit was given him in a wineglass, and he began to convey it to his mouth, with all kinds of falterings and gyrations on the road.

“The nerves of Mr. Dolls,” remarked Eugene to Lightwood, “are considerably unstrung. And I deem it on the whole expedient to fumigate Mr. Dolls.”