Diary of a Drug Fiend

The Bubble Bursts” 133 forgive the frankness of the expression, that it speaks volumes for your innocence, and there’s no doubt about your being British ”’ he smiled amiably, “ and I think I must do what I can for you. Excuse me while I talk to my friend here.” Lou turned on me with a triumphant smile; one of her old proud smiles, except that it was wrung, so to speak, out of the heart of unspeakable agony. Meanwhile, the commissario was gesticulating and shouting at the consul, who replied with equal volubility but an apparently unsurmountable languor. Then the conversation stopped suddenly short. The two men rose to their feet. “T’ve arranged it with my friend here on the basis of his experience of the bold, bad, British tourist. You will come with me to the consulate under the protection of two of his men,” he smiled sarcastically, “ for fear you should get into any further trouble. You can have your things back except the guns, which are forbidden.” How little he knew what a surge of joy went through us at that last remark ! “I will send one of my clerks with you to Capri,” he said, “‘ and you will get your passports and money and whatever you need, and come back to me at once and put the position on a more regular footing.” We got our things from the sergeant, and made excuses for a momentary disappearance. By George, how we did want it! Five minutes later we were almost ourselves again. We saw the whole thing as an enormous lark, and communicated our high spirits to our companion. He attributed them, no doubt, to our prospects of getting out of the scrape. Lou rattled on all the way about life in London, and I told the story—bar the snow part—of our elope- ment. He thawed out completely. Our confidence had reassured him. We shook hands amid all-round genial laughter