‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. One would think that you enjoyed crawling away out of your world into hiding, with a very foolish wicked wife. ” “What did your aunt say?” “She didn’t even kiss me. ‘How dull it must have been for you, poor little one. From what she could tell, he truly had convinced himself that he was in love with her, but she knew that his ardor would fade eventually inasmuch as she knew John’s would. But it's confounded inconvenient. Alcohol— would you believe it?—steadies his nerves and keens his brain: which is against the laws of gravitation, you might say.
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