Diary of a Drug Fiend

66 The Diary of a Drug Fiend “May I venture to suggest that you and Lady Pen- dragon take supper with us at the Petit Savoyard ?”’ Haidée slipped her arm into mine, and Lou led the way with Feccles. “We were going there ourselves,” she told him, “and it will be perfectly delightful to be with friends. I see you're quite an old friend of my husband's.” He began to tell her of the old school. As if by accident, he gave an account of the circumstances which had led to his leaving. ““ My old man was in the city, you know,” I heard him say, ‘‘ and he dropped his pile ‘somewhere in Lom- bard Street’’’ (he gave a false little laugh), ‘““ where he couldn’t pick it up, so that was the end of my academic career. He persuaded old Rosenbaum, the banker, that I had a certain talent for finance, and got me. a job as private secretary. I really did take to it like a duck to water, and things have gone very well for me ever since. But London isn’t the place for men with real ambition. It doesn’t afford the scope. It’s either Paris or New York for yours sincerely, Elgin Feccles.” I don’t know why I didn’t believe a word of the tale ; but I didn’t. The heroin was working beautifully. I hadn’t the slightest inclination to talk to Haidée. In the same way she took no notice of me. She never uttered a word. Lou was in the same condition. She was apparently listening to what Feccles was saying; but she made no remark, and preserved a total detachment. The whole scene had not taken three minutes. We reached the Petit Savoyard and took our seats. The patron appeared to know our friends very well. He welcomed them with even more than the usual French fussiness. We sat down by the window. The restaurant overhangs the steep slopes of the Montmartre like an eyrie. We ordered supper, Feccles with bright intelligence, the rest of us with utter listless- ness. I looked at Lou across the table. I had never seen the woman before in my life. She meant nothing