I came in for the Cure. Not a
penny will these people be the worse, except for their washing and
their electric light, and I mean to leave enough to cover both
items."
"Then," said I, "since Brutus is such a very honorable man, we will
borrow a bottle from the cellar, and replace it before we go."
Raffles slapped me softly on the back, and I knew that I had gained
my point. It was often the case when I had the presence of heart
and mind to stand up to him. But never was little victory of mine
quite so grateful as this. Certainly it was a very small cellar,
indeed a mere cupboard under the kitchen stairs, with a most
ridiculous lock. Nor was this cupboard overstocked with wine. But
I made out a jar of whiskey, a shelf of Zeltinger, another of claret,
and a short one at the top which presented a little battery of
golden-leafed necks and corks. Raffles set his hand no lower. He
examined the labels while I held folded hat and naked light.
"Mumm, '84!" he whispered. "G. H. Mumm, and A.D. 1884! I am no
wine-bibber, Bunny, as you know, but I hope you appreciate the
specifications as I do.
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