The Cask of Amontillado
I broke and reached him a flagon of De Grâve. He emptied it at a breath. His eyes flashed with a fierce light. (56)
He turned towards me, and looked into my eyes with two filmy orbs that distilled the rheum of intoxication. (29)
“The Amontillado!” I said.
“He! he! he!–he! he! he!–yes, the Amontillado. But is it not getting late?” (81, 82)