Diary of a Drug Fiend

164 The Diary of a Drug Fiend got her talking about her life. She has been in England nearly thirty years. I worked round to the interesting subject. She doesn’t know much about it. She thinks she can help. One of the women lodgers injects. She _ asked could we pay. It’s really rather comic. Eight thousand a year and one of the most beautiful houses near London. And here we are in this filthy hole being asked “can we pay!” by a hag that never saw a sovereign in her.life unless she stole it from some drunken client. Cockie seems to have lost his sense. He flashed a fifty-pound note in her face. It was because he was angry at her attitude. She rather shut up. Either she thinks we're police spies or she’s made up her mind to rob us. The sight of the cash knocked her out of time! It destroyed her sense of proportion. It put all her ideas of straight dealing out of her mind. Her manner changed. She went off. Pete told me to go and see the dope girl myself. It’s the first time he ever spoke to me like that. All sexual feeling is dead between us. We've tried to work up the old passion. It was artificial, horrible, repulsive ; a degradation and a blasphemy. Why is it? The snow intensified love beyond every possibility. Yet I love him more than ever. He’s my boy. I think he must be ill. I wish I weren’t so tired. I’m not looking after him properly, and I can’t think about anything except getting H. I don’t seem to mind so much - about C. I never liked C. much. It made me dizzy and ill. We have no amusements now. We get through the day in a dark, dreary dream. I can’t fix my mind on anything. The more I want H. the less I am able to think and act as I should to get anything else I wanted. Cockie went out slamming the door. It swung open again. I couldn’t go to the woman like this. I've «written this to try to keep from crying.