WORK AND OTHER DISSIPATIONS
waiter was impudently trying to guy him, but he was sure the others were listening. He would show himself the match of any waiter. "Bring me a hot Scotch," he said calmly, and tried to look abstracted. He had read about "hot Scotches" in novels.
"That ought to impress them," he thought; and so it did, for it was a warm, sunny day.
They were still more impressed when he ordered a second and a third and a fourth. But each time it was a different impression. At first it seemed ludicrous, then pathetic, and finally quite disgusting.
What's the matter, Dick? Don't you want to hear about this? It is queer, I admit. So I'll cut it short. There could not have been any fun in it even for him, for he immediately—what do you call it?—"drew a blank," fell into a stupor. As soon as it was dusk they walked him over to his room. They opened the door for him and he staggered across the threshold and fell into the arms of his mother. She had been waiting to see him for over an hour.
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