Explore "The Cardinal Moth" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
A fine perspiration stood out on Lefroy's face, he swayed to and fro like one in an advanced stage of intoxication, the Count was utterly unmanned for the moment. As his brain and eye cleared presently, Frobisher came out of the mist in the semblance of a man who was manifestly enjoying himself.
"I pray you sit down," he said in his silkiest manner. "My dear Count, the heat has been too much for you. The hero of a thousand adventures succumbs to a high thermometer -- it is possible to choke a Hercules with an orange pip. A little of the old brandy, eh?"