to stave in a cask

Have I not been Thy pupil long? Hast thou not learn'd me how To make perfumes?

A waiter brought his aperitif, which was a small scotch and soda, and as he sipped it gratefully he sighed. ‘Civilized,’ he said to Mr. Campion. ‘Humanizing.’ […] ‘Cigars and summer days and women in big hats with swansdown face-powder, that's what it reminds me of.’

She was not going to allow Gregory Winston Fallows to throw his life—and hers—away. Whatever demons were torturing him, she vowed that she would lash herself to the mast and hold on.