Indian Summer 169
Why was I translated into heaven this afternoon?
Why had I found my wings?
The answer came as quick as the question. It’s
the atmosphere of Mabel and the relief of my worry.
With that came a rational fear of the drug. I asked
her if she hadn’t had any troubles from taking it.
“You can’t sleep without it,” she said, but not as
if it mattered much, “ and it rather gets on one’s nerves
now and then.”
She had to rush off to meet her beau for dinner. I
went back to our dirty little den, brimming over with
joy. I found Cockie sprawling on the bed in the depth
of dejection. He did not move whenI came in. I
ran to him and covered him with kisses. His eyes were
heavy and swollen and his nose was running.
I gave him my handkerchief and pulled him up.
His clothes were all rumpled and of course he hadn’t
shaved. I couldn't resist the temptation of teasing
my darling. My love had come back in flood. I tingled
with the pain of feeling that he did not respond. I
hugged the pain to my heart. My blood beat hard with
the joy of power. I held him in my hand. One dainty
act, and he was mine. I hadn't the strength to enjoy
myself to the full. Pity and tenderness brought the
tears to my eyes. I shook out a dose of the dull white
He sniffed it up with stupid lethargy like a man
who has lost hope of life, yet still takes his medicine as
a routine. He came up gradually, but was hardly
himself till after the third dose.
I took one, too, to keep him company, not because
I needed it. I sent bim out to get shaved and buy
clean linen.
I take a curious delight in writing this diary. I
know now why it is and it has rather startled me.
It’s just that chance phrase of King Lamus: “ Your
magical diary.”
I have flirted a lot with Lamus, but it was mostly
swank. I dislike the man in many ways.