Then he drank. Then he dropped the glass, which broke.
"Ugh! What's that?" he demanded, with the distorted features of a
gargoyle.
His mother, who was seated next to him, seized the bottle. Denry's hand,
in clasping the bottle, had hidden a small label, which said:
"_POISON--Nettleship's Patent Enamel-Cleaning Fluid. One wipe does it_."
Confusion! Only Nellie Cotterill seemed to be incapable of realising
that a grave accident had occurred. She had laughed throughout the
supper, and she still laughed, hysterically, though she had drunk
scarcely any wine. Her mother silenced her.
Denry was the first to recover.
"It'll be all right," said he, leaning back in his chair. "They always
put a bit of poison in those things. It can't hurt me, really. I never
noticed the label."
Mrs Machin smelt at the bottle. She could detect no odour, but the fact
that she could detect no odour appeared only to increase her alarm.
"You must have an emetic instantly," she said.
"Oh no!" said Denry. "I shall be all right." And he did seem to be
suddenly restored.
"You must have an emetic instantly," she repeated.
"What can I have?" he grumbled.
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