Diary of a Drug Fiend

First Aid 273 its defenders does not come from any diminution in the fighting power of the individual soldiers ; its military value is not sensibly diminished by the loss of the few men at the point of attack. It has become worth- less because their regular arrangement has been thrown into disorder. “At the Battle of Waterloo,” said King Lamus, turning from the wall and going back to his coffee, ‘“‘ Napoleon sent forward the Old Guard. A few minutes later he cried, ‘They are mixed,’ and drove in despair from the field. He did not have to wait to see them destroyed.”’ Lou’s breath was coming in great gasps. She had understood the essence of our friend’s tactics. We looked abominably ill ; we were actually suffering at the moment from the craving, and embarrassed by the presence of Maisie Jacobs. We did not want to take it in front of her. And yet we knew that we had won the victory. It might be a matter of weeks or months ; we didn’t even care. We were content to have mastered the principle of the thing. It would be easy to attack those clusters of crosses, and eliminate them little by little. King Lamus asked Maisie to sing. Luckily there was a baby grand in the room. He sat down and began to accompany her. I found myself enthralled by watching the man’s mind work. It taught me something con- stantly. This last act, for example. We couldn’t go out as we were, and the singing would be an alternative distraction. At the same time, he wanted Maisie’s back turned so that we could take our heroin. We wanted it very badly indeed; and yet—so strange is nature |—we were just as ashamed to take it secretly as a moment before we had been to take it openly. The thought hit me between the eyes. It has already been mentioned that Lou and I both had the impulse to conceal the act from each other