He had taken a single mouthful, but another hand seemed to grasp the one that held the cup of wine and press it back to his lips, from which it was not removed until empty.
The prescription of Mr.Elliott failed.

Either the wine was not pure or his theory was at fault.

It was but little over an hour from the fatal moment when Mr.Ridley put a glass of wine to his lips ere he went out alone into the storm of a long-to-be-remembered night in a state of almost helpless intoxication, and staggered off in the blinding snow that soon covered his garments like a winding sheet..