He placed them in the hands of the old man, who drew a clean towel of coarse linen from a small cupboard in the wall above his head.
She and Dyck held the pots for the old man to pour the cordial into them.

As he said, there was only a good porridge-spoon of liqueur for each.

He divided it with anxious care.
"There's manny a man," he said, "and manny and manny a lady, too, born in the purple, that'd be glad of a dhrink of this cordial from the cellar of the bishop.
"Alpha, beta, gamma, delta is the code, and with the word delta," he continued, "dhrink every drop of it, as if it was the last thing you were dhrinking on earth; as if the Lord stooped down to give ye a cup of blessing from His great flagon of eternal happiness.

Ye've got two kind hearts, but there's manny a day of throuble will come between ye and the end; and yet the end'll be right, God love ye! Now-alpha, beta, gamma, delta!" With a merry laugh Dyck Calhoun turned up his cup and drained the liquid to the last drop.

With a laugh not quite so merry, Sheila raised her mug and slowly drained the green happiness away.
"Isn't it good--isn't it like the love of God ?" asked the old man.
"Ain't I glad I had it for ye?
Why I said I hadn't annything for ye to dhrink or eat, Lord only knows.