Diary of a Drug Fiend

go The Diary of a Drug Fiend a phase of babbling, both talking at once at the top of our voices, making plans for the day, each one as it bubbled in our brains the source of ecstatic excite- ment and inextinguishable laughter. We had just decided to spend the morning shopping when a card was brought up to the room. I had a momentary amazement as I read that our visitor was the confidential clerk of Mr. Wolfe. “Oh, bother the fellow,” said I, and then remem- bered my telegram of the day before. I had a swift pang of alarm. Could something be wrong ?. But the cocaine assured me that everything was all right. “Tl have to see the fellow, I suppose,’ I said, and told the hall-boy to send him upstairs. “Don’t let him keep you long,” said Lou, with a petulant pout, and ran into the bedroom after a swift embrace, so violent that it disarranged my new Charvet necktie. The man came up. I was a little bored by the gravity of his manner, and rather disgusted by its solemn deference. Of course, one likes being treated as a kind of toy emperor in a way, but that sort of thing doesn’t go with Paris. Still less does it go with cocaine. It annoyed me that the fellow was so obviously ill at ease, and also that he was so obviously proud of himself for having been sent to Paris on important business with a real live knight. If there’s one thing flying teaches one more than another, it is to hate snobbery. Even the Garter becomes imperceptible when one is flying above the clouds. I couldn’t possibly talk to the man till he was a little more human. I made him sit down and have a drink and cigarette before I would let him tell me his business. Of course, everything was perfectly in order. The point was simply this, that the six thousand pounds wasn't immediately available, so, as I needed it urgently,