Diary of a Drug Fiend

The True Will 345 ‘“ Confound the fellow and his eternal metaphysics,” I thought. ‘‘I haven’t the least idea,’’ I answered sharply, ‘‘ and what’s more, I’ve no time to waste on this occult stuff of yours. Don’t think I’m rude. I’m very grateful for all you’ve done for me.” Strangely enough, the memory of the last few months had just returned to my mind. Yet it was merely the background of the burning flame of thought that filled my consciousness. Basil did not answer, and as we walked down the hill together I began to explain my ideas about the new helicopter. Almost without knowing it, we had reached the door of the large house which the Abbey used for a refectory, and we sat down on the stone seats which lined its north-eastern wall, and gazed over the marvellous prospect. The refectory was set on a steep slope. The ground fell sharply away from below our feet. On the left, the great rock towered even more tremendously than on the other side; and on the right, the hills above the coast-line danced away into dim purple. In front was a strange jagged headland crowned with a fantastic cluster of rocks, and beyond this the great sea stretched away, in masses of greens and blues and violets, to where a number of volcanic islands slumbered dimly on the horizon. Basil annoyed me intensely by interpolating remarks about the beauty of the scenery. I couldn’t seem to interest him in the helicopter at all. Was I really talking such rubbish? “I’m too old to be snubbed, Sir Peter,” (Oh, yes, I was Sir Peter now! Of course I was.) he interjected, shaking me gently by the shoulder. ‘I had paused to clear up a point in my mind about one of the gauges. “‘ And I must remind you that you are a gentleman ; and that when you came to this Abbey the first thing you did was to sign a pledge-form.”