"The Fox and Goose, sir." She turned her face away again, and David's
head came up with a quick motion. There it was, five years ago, that he
had drunk at the bar, and had fought Jasper Kimber.
"Poor fellow!" he said again, and listened to Soolsby's stertorous
breathing, as a physician looks at a patient whose case he cannot
control, does not wholly understand.
The hand of the sleeping man was suddenly raised, his head gave a jerk,
and he said mumblingly: "Claridge for ever!"
Kate nervously intervened. "It fair beat him, your coming back, sir. It's
awful temptation, the drink. I lived in it for years, and it's cruel hard
to fight it when you're worked up either way, sorrow or joy. There's a
real pleasure in being drunk, I'm sure. While it lasts you're rich, and
you're young, and you don't care what happens. It's kind of you to take
it like this, sir, seeing you've never been tempted and mightn't
understand." David shook his head sadly, and looked at Soolsby in
silence.
"I don't suppose he took a quarter what he used to take, but it made him
drunk.
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