178 The Diary of a Drug Fiend
Satirical, sneering stupidity—or is he a devil in-
carnate, as Gretel told us he was? Does he gloat?
I loathe the beast—and I thought—once—well, never
mind! Peter took the letter. Anything, anything to
distract the mind from its boredom! Yet we haven't
the energy to do anything: we take whatever comes
to us, and clutch at it feebly. “ It’s true,’’ said Cockie,
to my amazement, “ and we've got to be able to ¢ell
him we've won.”’ There was a long quarrel—as there
is over every incident of any sort. That is natural,
with this eternal insomnia and sleeping at the wrong
time. I hated Peter (and K.L.) the more because I
knew all the time he was right. If K.L. is a Devil, it’s
up to us to get the last laugh. I tore the beastly letter
into shreds. Peter has gone out—I hope he has gone
to kill him. I want to be thrilled—just once more—
if I had to be hanged for it myself.
Our watches have run down. It doesn’t matter. I
can call on Mabel any time I like. I may as well go
now. I’ll drink a small bottle and go along....
It is night. Cockie has not returned. Just when I
needed him most! I’m frightened of myself. I’m
stark staring sober. I went to the glass to take my
hat off. I didn’t know who I was. There is no flesh
on my face. My complexion’s entirely gone. My hair
is lustreless and dry, and it’s coming out in handfuls.
I think I must be ill. I’ve a good mind to send for
a doctor. But I daren’t. It has been a frightful
shock! ...
I must pull myself together and write it up. —_—-
It was about five o’clock when I got to Mount Street.
If Mabel wasn’t in, I could wait.
A strange man answered the door. It annoyed me.
I felt frightened. Why had she changed Cartwright ?
I felt faint. Had something told me?
It embarrassed me to ask ‘‘ Is Mrs. Black at home ? ”
The man answered as if he had been asked the
time.
“ Mrs. Black is dead.”