"Perhaps you'd better take a look at the liquor, Saunders," said Parks,
dismissing the ethical question. "YOU know more about it than we do. It
ought to be the best."

Saunders went behind the counter, drew out two demijohns, and, possibly
from the force of habit, selected THREE mugs from the crockery and
poured some whiskey into each, before he could check himself.

"Perhaps we had better compare tastes," said Brace blandly. They all
sipped their liquor slowly and in silence. The decision was favorable.
"Better try some with water to see how it mixes," said Saunders,
lazily filling the glasses with a practiced hand. This required more
deliberation, and they drew their chairs to the table and sat down. A
slight relaxation stole over the thoughtful faces of Brace and Parks,
a gentle perspiration came over the latter's brow, but the features and
expression of Saunders never changed. The conversation took a broader
range; politics and philosophy entered into it; literature and poetry
were discussed by Parks and Brace, Saunders still retaining the air of
a dispassionate observer, ready to be convinced, but abstaining from
argument--and occasionally replenishing the glasses. There was felt to
be no inconsistency between their present attitude and their previous
conversation; rather it proved to them that gentlemen could occasionally
indulge in a social glass together without frequenting a liquor saloon.
This was stated with some degree of effusion by Parks and assented
to with singular enthusiasm by Brace; Saunders nodding. It was also
observed with great penetration by Brace that in having really
GOOD, specially selected liquor like that, the great danger of the
intoshikat'n 'fx--he corrected himself with great deliberation, "the
intoxicating effects"--of adulterated liquors sold in drinking saloons