Amnesiacs -- Fiction; New York (State) -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Trials -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
"Have some delirium tremens?" Gertrude waved the box of chocolates.
It was a gift from Tawny and contained three pounds of candy filled
with varying liquors, French and Greek condensations that were rather
intense for the American head.
Dunstan glowered scornfully down on the girl. "Ah! Why don't you stop
eating that rat poison?" he demanded fretfully. He turned to Tawny
Troop, now tickling Cinny's sleepy face with a grass blade. "You thing
in the bath-towel sweater, you thought it was funny to bring doped
candy, I suppose. They like that at the Chinamen's balls and the other
festivities you frequent, hey? Aw, old stuff, old stuff!"
The tones were purposely insulting, but at first the Troop merely
chuckled for answer. Then he leaned forward and kissed Cinny lightly.
At this, something latent in Dunstan seemed to take fire--he turned and
muttered things uncomplimentary. "Aw," he snarled, "aw, cut it out."
"Now, Dunce, now, Tiger!" this from Gertrude. But the boy turned to her
with an ugly look in his eyes. "Well, Gertrude Farum," said Dunstan
slowly and impressively, "now that we're here where decent girls are,
don't you think you'd better take a day off, clean up, burn up the
trash--y' know?"
Disgust was quivering all over the boy's face, but his own accent was
also thick, his eyes heavy; he had had his share of the doped candy
and something else from the absurd gold flask that Tawny sported.
Dunstan, to his shame, had also had his share of such diversion as this
frivolous society afforded. Suddenly at sight of the things belonging
to his sister and the girl staying with her, all the clean gentleman in
him rose up and accused him, and he suddenly found himself entangled
with things which he did not know how to unravel.
But Troop, the exquisite, now spoke up. He appealed to the girls.
"By heck! the darned lobster. Say, I think he ought to apologize.
Gert--Cin--don't yew? Yep, by heck, I do. Say, man, you're, by heck,
you're rotten insulting. I'll tell the world you ought to be crowned.
You're rotten insulting, I'll tell the little old world!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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