"I had been mugged in the Leased Territories," Hackworth said absently, 
"and Lieutenant Chang recovered my hat, somewhat later, from a ruffian." He 
had fixed his gaze, for no special reason, on a tall bottle with a paper label 
printed in an ancient crabbed typeface. "M c W HORTER'S O RIGINAL C ONDIMENT " was written large, and everything else was too small to read. 
The neck of the bottle was also festooned with black-and-white reproductions of 
ancient medals awarded by pre-Enlightenment European monarchs at exhibitions in 
places like Riga. Just a bit of violent shaking and thwacking ejected a few 
spurts of the ochre slurry from the pore-size orifice at the top of the bottle, 
which was guarded by a quarter-inch encrustation. Most of it hit his plate, and 
some impacted on his sandwich.