““And there will be no waste, I promise you," he went on, waving his finger in the air as he got into his stride. "You see, the trouble with the professor is that, once he stops for lunch, he tends to lose interest. He drinks a good deal, you know," he confided. "What's left over gets thrown away or gnawed by rats in the basement. Whereas I will pickle you..." "I beg your pardon?" Prestcott said weakly. "Pickle you," Lower replied enthusiastically. "It is the very latest technique. If we joint you and pop you into a vat of spirits, you will keep for very much longer.””
