Diary of a Drug Fiend

180 The Diary of a Drug Fiend Lies, in the brain benumbed, At the end of time and space, An abyss, unmeasured, unplumbed— The haunt of a face!” September 12 Peter came in just as I had finished writing this account. He seemed much more cheerful, and his arms were full of books. “ There,” he said, throwing them on the bed, “ that will refresh my memory, in case we have any trouble in stopping. I'll show Mr. King Lamus what it means to be a Pendragon.” I told him about Mabel. And now a strange thing happened. Instead of being depressed, we felt a current of mysterious excitement, rippling at first, then raging and roaring in every nerve. It was as if the idea of her death exhilarated us. He took me in his arms for the first time in—is it weeks or months? His hot breath coiled like a snake about my ear, and thrilled my hair like an electric machine. With a strange ghastly intensity his voice, trembling with passion, strummed the intoxicating words :— “ Olya! the golden bait Barbed with infinite pain, Fatal, fanatical mate Of a poisoned body and brain! Olya, the name that leers Its lecherous longing and knavery, Whispers in crazing ears The secret spell of her slavery.” The room swam before my eyes. We were wreathed in spirals of dark blue smoke bursting with crimson flashes. , He gripped me with epileptic fury, and swung me round in a sort of savage dance. I had an intuition that he was seeing the same vision as I was. Our souls