He was a perfectly sober man, and no power would have induced him to overstep the narrow limit he allowed to his taste.

Indeed, he did not care for wine itself, and still less for any excitement it produced in his brain.

He ordered his half-litre as a matter of respect for the house, as he called it, and it served to wet his throat while he was talking.

Water would have done as well.

Consumed by the intensity of his hatred for the things he attacked, he needed no stimulant to increase his exaltation.
When he was gone, there was silence in the room for some few minutes.
Then the journalist burst into a loud laugh.
"If we only had half a dozen fellows like that in the Chambers, all talking at once!" he cried.
"They would be kicked into the middle of Montecitorio in a quarter of an hour," answered the thin voice of the lawyer.