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Mr. West Takes a Drink

Laudanum, Mr. West decided, would be necessary for this seance. Due to Percy’s increasing danger to the household, the matter couldn’t wait until night when he could sleep naturally. He repaired the salt circle around his bed, checked once again that it was not the sort of bed that has a lid and four handles, and wound the metronome.

He let 20 drops fall into his glass, as he had done so many times before a difficult seance, or simply to help him sleep. Lying back in the pillows, he let the metronome mesmerize him as he looked idly at the small brown bottle. At the top of the label, “Frank S. Betz Co.;” and in smaller print, “Opium, Concentrated (assayed). For making Tincture Opii (Laudanum) U.S.P. Four times the strength of the regular U.S.P.”

“Mr. West, how annoying it is to meet you again,” said a somewhat amused, somewhat exasperated voice. He looked up; Major Laurence Percival Tor was sitting in the bedside chair.

Mr. West, rhetorically calibrating each word, said, “Major, you are a coward.”

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