the T-G's war wound plays up

"Why did Mertz and Mawson eat the husky livers if they knew they were poisonous?" I had to ask. It had been troubling me all night.
The T-G sighed heavily. "They DIDN'T know, in those days. It all happened before the Great War. You know. Before I got shot in the Balkans."
I winced. The T-G tends to get tetchy when his old war wound plays up. And that's never a good thing. He's terribly butch, and had a piece of shrapnel, from said war wound, mounted in silver and fitted on the nub of his sword stick, with the words"Ready for Action" engraved along the business end.
"They didn't have vitamins in those days?" I queried. Mind you, I thought, I have precious little of them myself.
"They didn't NEED vitamins. They were a different breed. Tough. Men were men, in those days." The Tupfinder was gazing into the middle distance with a wistful expression. I didn't like to remind him about the vitamin A poisoning, and daren't even breath the word "scurvy". I defo. didn't want to cross the Tupfinder, in his present mood. I imagined he was remembering his first meeting with Mrs T-G, in the field hospital at Scutari.
"That reminds me - I've been wonderin' - what the dickens happened to the other items from my vitrine? the Meerschaum pipe for example? not to mention Scott's last biscuit." (see previous posts)
I coughed nervously, as one does in such situations, and tried to change the subject.
"Another smidgeon of madeira, T-G? Terrible weather we're having."
Just as he reached towards me, glass in hand, Geoffrey sprang up from his pillows and shrieked"Eccles! he's in the canal!" and collapsed, insensible once more.
The T-G eyed him sceptically. "I wonder..." he mused, and lit a small cigar. When the tip was glowing brightly, he held it to Geoffrey's left ear. Before it touched the feathers, Geoffrey was up like a shot, and flying round the ceiling in a panic.
The T-G sat back smugly. "Thought so!"
Geoffrey? feigning illness? whatever next! but why?

the T-G provides an explanation for Geoffrey's coma

"Husky livers."
"What?"
"Husky livers. It's the only explanation. Or polar bear. Or seal." The Tupfinder general sat back on Geoffrey's usual chair by the fire - unlit, as we're out of fire lighters - and gave me the benefit of his thoughts on Geoffrey's condition.
"Where on earth would Geoffrey find a husky or a polar bear, round here? The odd seal, perhaps, but I honestly can't see him eating its liver."
"Well, you did ask. And it's one possible explanation for his raving. Vitamin A poisoning. Like Mertz and Mawson."
"Mertz and Mawson?"
"One of the greatest stories of polar exploration. They survived, after their companion plus all their food went down a crevasse, by killing their huskies and eating their livers. The livers contain toxic doses of Vitamin A - Mertz died, Mawson did not. I can go on, if you like."
"N-n-no, please don't trouble," I said hastily. But he was still in full flow...
"I think I've got Mertz's pinky finger in the vitrine somewhere. The one he bit off."
I put my hands over my ears. "Please!"
The Tupfinder looked taken aback, then we both did as Geoffrey pulled himself up from his pillows and shrieked"Stephanie! don't do it!" the fell into a faint again.
He must have had a fly look at the TV mag after all. Well, that made my mind up! I immediately began folding the pages into kindling for the fire. No more TV mags for him! I'm all but out of sal volatile and this can't go on.