“Oh, it IS bitter, Paul!” she said, making a little grimace.
“It’s a new sleeping draught the doctor gave me for you,” he said. “He thought it would leave you in such a state in the morning.”
“And I hope it won’t,” she said, like a child.
She drank some more of the milk.
“But it IS horrid!” she said.
He saw her frail fingers over the cup, her lips making a little move.