Diary of a Drug Fiend

52 The Diary of a Drug Fiend And that’s really very much the same spirit. “ Heart of my heart, come out of the rain, Let’s have another go of cocaine.” I know I don’t count when it comes to poetry, and the distinguished authoress can well afford to smile, if it’s only the society smile, and step quietly over my remains. But I really have got the spirit of the thing. “ Always go on till you have to stop, Let’s have another sniff, old top!” No, that’s undignified. “Carry on! over the top!” would be better. It’s more dignified and patriotic, and expresses the idea much better. And if you don’t like it, you can inquire elsewhere. , No, I won’t admit that we were reckless. We had substantial resources at our command. There was nothing whatever of the “long firm” about us. You all know perfectly well how difficult it is to keep matches. Perfectly trivial things, matches— always using them, always easy to replace them, no matter at all for surprise if one should find one’s box empty; and I don’t admit for one moment that I showed any lack of proportion in the matter. Now don’t bring that moonlight flight to Paris up against me. I admit I was out of gas; but every one knows how one’s occupation with one’s first love affair is liable to cause a temporary derangement of one’s ordinary habits. What I liked about it was that evidently Gretel was a jolly good sport, whatever people said about her. And she wasn’t an ordinary kind of good old sport either. I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t admit that she is what you may call a true friend in the