Allan George Gray, Once a Week (1862)
“ There was a dead silence. I glanced at the doctor; he rose and signalled to me to fill the goblet, which his daughter held from the flask. His eyes glanced fiercely under his white eyebrows, and I felt compelled to obey. Raising the flask and moving forward, I filled the gold goblet. The liquid was colourless, and limpid as water, but as I poured it out, I was conscious that the perfume in the air was growing more powerful and oppressive, every instant. I watched her raise the draught to her lips, and her eyes met mine for an instant. ”
