"It burns," I said, barely touching it with my lips and making a little
grimace.
"Drink it!" he roared in a terrible voice, though his eyes were half
shut as if he could not keep awake.
I took a sip of the coffee: it scraped my throat like a rake. I thought
of Elise and understood. For a moment the idea flashed through my brain
to say that I found nothing the matter with it. Then I changed my mind.
"Good heavens!" I exclaimed. "What have they put in this coffee? It
tastes like poison!"
Prilukoff bent still closer over me.
"If you had said it was all right, I should have strangled you."
My teeth chattered, partly through the taste of the chloral, partly
through my fear of Prilukoff.
"Have you drunk much of it?" I gasped. "You ought to call for help."
But Prilukoff had sunk into an armchair, and already, with his head
rolled back and his mouth open, he slept.