Diary of a Drug Fiend

The Final Plunge 243 Peter has got more silent and morose every day, like the weather. He seems to have something on his mind. I wish he’d tell me what it is... . He brightened up at dinner. “‘ Let’s go to town to-morrow, Lou,’”’ he said. ‘“‘ We'll just take small bags. We needn’t be away more than two or three days. What we need is a few decent meals in a restaurant, and take in a show or two, and perhaps get a bunch down here to liven us up a bit. The birds are pretty good this year after all.” October 31 It only struck us when we got into the train that we couldn't possibly go to the Savoy with no clothes, Peter thought it would be a joke to go round to that place of ours in Greek Street. It certainly will be amusing to look at it from the new point of view. He will take the bags on there, while I get one or two nice people together. We ought to give a little dinner to celebrate. Here’s London at last. I'll lock this up in my dressing case... . Later—I can pocket the creature’s insolence at the price. It must have been on my mind. The first address I gave to the chauffeur was McCall’s. He looked shocked when I was announced. “‘My dear Lady Pendragon,” he almost shouted at me very fast. “I know you'll forgive me. I’m fright- fully busy this afternoon.” (There wasn't a soul in his waiting-room.) “ Tf you'll allow me, I think thisis what you want, and I hope you will come and see me again soon. Always at your service, dear Lady Pendragon.” While he was talking he half emptied a ten-gramme bottle into a piece of paper, twisted it up like a grocer, thrust it almost rudely into my hand, and bowed me out volubly and effusively into the street. I went faint all over. The taxi was still there. I called him, and drove to Mme. Daubignac’s. I don’t