Diary of a Drug Fiend

The True Will 343 ‘putting a tray with my breakfast at my side. I was aware of a vague subconscious annoyance that the food was cold. When the tom-tom sounded for the noonday Adora- tion, I got up and stretched myself; my brain was completely fagged out. I joined the little party on the terrace at the salutation to the sun. “‘ Hail unto thee who art Ahathor in thy triumphing, even unto thee who art Ahathor in thy beauty; that travellest over the heavens in thy bark at the mid- ‘career of the Sun. Tahuti standeth in his splendour at the prow, and Ra-Hoor abideth at the helm. Hail unto thee from the abodes of morning!” One of the party made a very singular impression on me. There was something indefinably Mongolian about her face. The planes were flat ; the cheek-bones high ; the eyes oblique; the nose wide, short, and vital; the mouth a long, thin, rippling curve like a mad sunset. The eyes were tiny and green with a piquant elfin expression. Her hair was curiously colourless; it was very abundant; she had wound great ropes about her head. It reminded me of the armature of a dynamo. It produced a weird effect—this mingling of the savage Mongol with the savage Norseman type. Her strange hair fascinated me. It was that delicate flaxen hue—so fine. The face was extraordinarily young and fresh, all radiant with smiles and blushes. “ Peter, my boy,” I said to myself, ‘ you’d better get busy and finish that helicopter and make some money, because that’s the girl you're going to marry.” This conviction seized me with the force of a revela- tion ; for the girl was mysteriously familiar. It seemed as if I had seen her in a dream or something like that. I was very annoyed to find an arm familiarly slipped through mine, while a voice said in my ear :— “We may as well walk over to the refectory for lunch. You haven’t answered my question about how you came to take up flying.” “When you asked me, I wasn’t at all clear in my D.D.F. Zz