used on that evening to rub your lumbago, in the hope of curing it?”
Grigory looked blankly at the questioner, and after a brief silence muttered, “There was saffron in it.”
“Nothing but saffron? Don’t you remember any other ingredient?”
“There was milfoil in it, too.”
“And pepper perhaps?” Fetyukovitch queried.
“Yes, there was pepper, too.”
“Etcetera. And all dissolved in vodka?”
“In spirit.”
There was a faint sound of laughter in the court.
“You see, in spirit. After rubbing your back, I believe, you drank what was left in the bottle with a certain pious prayer, only known to your wife?”
“I did.”
“Did you drink much? Roughly speaking, a wineglass or two?”
“It might have been a tumblerful.”
“A tumblerful, even. Perhaps a tumbler and a half?”
Grigory did not answer. He seemed to see what was meant.
“A glass and a half of neat spirit—is not at all bad, don’t you think? You might see the