He faced his enemy the first thing in the morning and the last thing at night.

He kept him in sight through the temptations of a business day.

He faced him most steadily in the solitude of his own room.

There, indeed, his most dangerous struggles took place, and one night John heard him after two hours of restless hurried walking up and down, throw open his window, and dash the bottle upon the pavement beneath it.

That was the last of his hard struggles; the bottle which replaced the one flung beyond his reach stands to-day where it has stood for nearly a quarter of a century, and David feels now no more inclination to open it than if it contained strychnine.
This is no fancy story.