"Now, then, Teddy, I'm going to fill you out a good glass of
lemonade just to buck you up."
Freddy Malins, who was nearing the climax of his story, waved the
offer aside impatiently but Mr. Browne, having first called Freddy
Malins' attention to a disarray in his dress, filled out and handed
him a full glass of lemonade. Freddy Malins' left hand accepted the
glass mechanically, his right hand being engaged in the
mechanical readjustment of his dress. Mr. Browne, whose face
was once more wrinkling with mirth, poured out for himself a
glass of whisky while Freddy Malins exploded, before he had well
reached the climax of his story, in a kink of high-pitched
bronchitic laughter and, setting down his untasted and overflowing
glass, began to rub the knuckles of his left fist backwards and
forwards into his left eye, repeating words of his last phrase as
well as his fit of laughter would allow him.
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