This morning, after leaving the bridge, he had fortified his system with a liberal allowance of rum and milk.

Breakfast ended, he took another dose of the same mixture as a "steadier," and he was just leaving the messroom when he set eyes on Iris.

Of course, he refused to believe his eyes.
Had they not deceived him many times?
"Ha!" said he, "a bit liverish," and he pressed a rough hand firmly downward from forehead to cheek-bones.

When he looked again, the girl was much nearer.
"Lord luv' a duck, this time I've got 'em for sure!" he groaned.
His lower jaw dropped, he stared unblinkingly, and purple veins bulged crookedly on his seamed forehead.

He was bereft of the power of movement.