"Must have sat on 'em," he opined at last; then he cried brightly: "Ha!
Pressed flowers! I'm full of old-fashioned sentiment." After studying
Lorelei's unsmiling face his tone altered. "Oh, I know! I slipped, but
it couldn't be helped. Nature insisted, and I yielded gracefully, but
no harm done, none whatever. This isn't a defeat, my dear; it's a
victory. I licked the demon rum and proved myself a man of iron. I
subjugated the cohorts of General Benjamin Booze, then I signed a
treaty of peace, and there was no bad blood on either side." After an
uncomfortable pause, during which he vainly waited for her to speak, he
explained more fully: "My dear, nothing is absolute! Life is a series
of compromises. Have a heart. Would you rob the distiller of his
livelihood? Think of the struggling young brewer with a family. Could
you take the bread from the mouths of his little ones? The president of
a bottling-works may be a Christian; he may have a sick wife. Remember
the boys that work in the hop-fields and the joyous peasant girls of
France. Moderation is the thing. Live and let live."
Lorelei nodded. "Exactly! We shall live as we choose, only, of course,
we can't live together after this." Then her disgust burst its control,
and she demanded, bitterly, "Haven't you any strength whatever? Haven't
you any balance, Bob?"
He grinned at her cheerfully. "I should say I had. I walked a fence on
the way home just to prove it; and I scarcely wabbled. Balance!
Strength! Why, you ought to see Jim. They had to CARRY him."
"Jim? Was--Jim with you?"
"In spirit, yes; in body--only for a time. For a brief while we went
gaily, hand in hand, then Jim lagged. He's a nice boy, but weak; he
falters beneath a load; and, as for pool, why, I've slept on
pool-tables, so naturally I know the angles better than he. Ha! that's
a funny line, isn't it? I know the angles of pool-tables because I've
slept on 'em, see? Don't hurry; I'll wait for you. Even an 'act' like
mine needs applause."
But Lorelei was in no laughing mood. She questioned Bob searchingly and
soon learned of Jim's visits, of the flask, of the pool games. When she
understood it all her eyes were glowing, but she found nothing to say.
At last she got Bob to bed, then lay down beside him and stared into
the darkness through many wakeful hours.
In the morning he was not only contrite, but badly frightened, yet when
he undertook to make his peace he found her unexpectedly mild.
"If you're sorry, that's all I ask," she said. "I changed my mind
during the night."
"Never again!" he promised, feelingly. "I thought I had cured myself."
Lorelei smiled at him faintly. "Cured! How long have you been a
drinker?"
"Oh, nearly always."
"When were you first drunk?"
"I was eighteen, I think."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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