By dinner, his brain was well
clouded and the panic forgotten. By bedtime, with the assistance
of Scotch whiskey, he was full--not violently nor uproariously
full, nor stupefied, but merely well under the influence of a
pleasant and mild anesthetic.
Next morning he awoke with parched lips and mouth, and with
sensations of heaviness in his head which quickly passed away.
By eight o'clock he was at his desk, buckled down to the fight,
by ten o'clock on his personal round of the banks, and after
that, without a moment's cessation, till nightfall, he was
handling the knotty tangles of industry, finance, and human
nature that crowded upon him. And with nightfall it was back to
the hotel, the double Martinis and the Scotch; and this was his
program day after day until the days ran into weeks.
CHAPTER XXI
Though Daylight appeared among his fellows hearty voiced,
inexhaustible, spilling over with energy and vitality, deep down
he was a very weary man. And sometime under the liquor drug,
snatches of wisdom came to him far more lucidity than in his
sober moments, as, for instance, one night, when he sat on the
edge of the bed with one shoe in his hand and meditated on Dede's
aphorism to the effect that he could not sleep in more than one
bed at a time.
Pages:
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458