"With a very small measure of whisky one could be warm and content." He glanced back into the darkness that hid the towering peaks.

"Verneille's to be envied--he's well out of it." "You said that before," said Weston, in whose veins life ran hot and strong.
"I did," his companion replied, with a little hollow laugh.

"You'll find out some day that I was right.

He was dead when he fell to pieces in the wind and weather." "Of course!" said Weston with a trace of impatience, for Grenfell's half-maudlin observations occasionally jarred on him; but the latter still looked at him with a curious smile.
"Keep clear of drugs and whisky.

It's good advice," he said.