Diary of a Drug Fiend

184 The Diary of a Drug Fiend They were witch-doctors with a licence from govern- ment to torture and kill at extravagant prices. They guarded their prerogatives with such ferocity because they were aware of their own ignorance and incom- petence; and if their victims found them out their swindle would be swept away. They were always trying to extend their tyranny. They were always wanting new laws to compel everybody, sick or well, to be bound to the vivisection table, and have some essential organ of the body cut out. And they were brazen enough to give the reason. They didn’t under- stand what use it was! And everybody must be injected with all sorts of disgusting serums and vaccines ostensibly to protect them against some disease which there was no reason whatever to suppose they were likely to get. ... _ The last three days have been too dreadful. This is the first time I have felt like writing, and yet I have been itching insanely to put down that hideously ‘luxurious scene when our love broke out like an abscess. All the old fantastic features were there. They had assumed a diabolical disguise ; but my mind has been in abeyance. We shut the medical books with a shudder, and slung them out of the window into the street. A little crowd gathered ; they were picked up, and the passers-by began talking about what was to be done. We realised the rashness of our rage. The last thing was to attract attention! We pulled the frowsy old curtains across, and put out the light. The reaction of our reading was terrific. We venomously contrasted the calm confidence of King Lamus with the croaking clamour of the “ authori- ties.’ Cockie summed up the situation with a quota- tion. “Quoth the Raven, ‘ Nevermore!’ ” Our thoughts splashed to and fro like an angry sea in a cave. These three days have been a flux of fugitive