Conduct of life -- Fiction; Frame stories; Short stories
"At what time," asked Lilith calmly, "do you next take your morphia?"
He turned upon her, furious, ashamed, stammering the inevitable pitiful
denial.
"Wh-at do you mean? Morphia--I! Who says I take morphia?"
"Everybody says it. Everybody knows. Don't distress yourself,
Hereward. I only wished to know your hours. It is better, isn't it,
that we should plan our expeditions for the times when you are most--
most--"
"_Most what_?"
"Normal! The morphia naturally is soothing, but while it is working
would it not be better if you were--alone?"
"You are talking nonsense. You don't know what you are talking about.
If you understood anything about the working of morphia, you would
realise that after a dose one feels stimulated, refreshed. I am never
so well as immediately after--"
"I'm sorry. I am ignorant, as you say. Then we had better start our
excursion immediately after an injection. That is, if we can manage to
do it in the time. How long is it before the--er--other stage comes
on?"
"_What_ other stage?"
"The--drunken stage!" Lilith answered.
He hated her at that moment. A fury of anger rushed through his veins.
He leaped from his seat and paced the path with impetuous steps. With
the cane in his hand he smote fiercely at the encircling shrubs. All
the lethargy of the past months disappeared; he was alive again,
smartingly alive, face to face with his shame.
"Who dares to say that I am drunk? It is a lie! When have you seen me
drunk?"
"Should I have said `drugged'? I'm sorry. I'm so ignorant, you see. I
didn't know. Of course, if you say so, there _is_ a difference."
He swung away from her, and entering the hotel mounted the stairs to his
own room. In his present condition of mind he dared not--literally
dared not--trust himself within sight of his fellows. Up and down the
quiet room he paced, like a wild animal in its cage, his mind seething
with rage and indignation against his wife, against the world, against
himself. It was as though a bandage had fallen, and his sleep-ridden
eyes were suddenly galvanised into life. He looked back along the
sloping path and perceived how far he had fallen...
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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