When she had the glass brimming, she tilted a little of its contents into a second glass and tasted it.
"That's entirely too sweet for a thirsty man," she said.
She poured out half the mixture, and refilling the glass, tasted it a second time.

She submitted that result to the attendant.

"Isn't that about the thing ?" she asked.
He replied enthusiastically.

"I'd get my wages raised ten a month if I could learn that trick." The Angel carried the brimming, frosty glass to Freckles.

He removed his hat, and lifting the icy liquid even with her eyes and looking straight into them, he said in the mellowest of all the mellow tones of his voice: "I'll be drinking it to the Swamp Angel." As he had said to her that first day, she now cautioned him: "Be drinking slowly." When the screen-door swung behind them, one of the men at the counter asked of the attendant: "Now, what did that mean ?" "Exactly what you saw," replied he, rather curtly.