Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. "Here, wife—hostess—fetch me that bottle from the second shelf in the corner cupboard. The rich, heavy food sat in her stomach like so many soft pebbles. I can save you, and will. Strongly impregnated with the mingled odours of tobacco, ale, brandy, and other liquors, the atmosphere was almost stifling. Their laughter, together with the agonized yowling of the dog, drew a circle of wondering natives; and at length McClintock himself came over to see what the racket was about.
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