Diary of a Drug Fiend

CHAPTER III THE VOICE OF VIRTUE Basi had gone out of town ; but he turned up on the fifth day at eleven o'clock in the morning, and he came in his most serious professional manner. After a very brief greeting, he went straight to the charts and in- spected them attentively. Lou and I both felt very uncomfortable. He noticed it at once. “You've still got heroin on the brain, I see,” he remarked severely. ‘‘ You insist on considering your- selves as naughty children instead of as pioneers of humanity undertaking a desperate adventure for the good of the race.” I began a-sort of apology; I don’t quite know for what. “Nonsense,” he interrupted. “I know perfectly well why you’re ashamed of yourself. You’ve had what you call a relapse. After getting down to five, six and seven doses, you’ve suddenly gone back. Yesterday, I see, Lou had fourteen and you sixteen—more than you were taking ever since you have been in this place. You think that’s a bad sign. I don't. “To begin with, you’ve been honest with yourselves ; and that’s the thing that matters most. Then it’s a good sign again that the daily variation is as large as it is. I’d much rather see “ two eighteen”’ than “ eight eight” in spite of the four extra doses. And that for exactly the same reason as applies to the hourly distribution. “Tt’s the same with drink. The man who goes on the bust occasionally is very much easier to manage than the steady soaker. Every child in the Fourth 280