KIPPS
Methusaleh to drink, because that would prevent his getting drunk. He knew that he was not drunk now, but he knew that he had had enough. He was one of those who always know when they have had enough. He tried to interrupt Chitterlow to tell him this, but he could not get a suitable opening. He doubted whether Chitterlow might not be one of those people who did not know when they had had enough. He discovered that he disapproved of Chitterlow. Highly. It seemed to him that Chitterlow went on and on like a river. For a time he was explicably and quite unjustly cross with Chitterlow and wanted to say to him, "you got the gift of the gab," but he only got so far as to say "the gift," and then Chitterlow thanked him and said he was better than Archer any day. So he eyed Chitterlow with a baleful eye until it dawned upon him that a most extraordinary thing was taking place. Chitterlow kept mentioning someone named Kipps. This presently began to perplex Kipps very greatly. Dimly but decidedly he perceived this was wrong.
"Look 'ere," he said suddenly, "what Kipps?"
"This chap Kipps I'm telling you about."
"What chap Kipps you're telling which about?"
"I told you."
Kipps struggled with a difficulty in silence for a space. Then he reiterated firmly, "What chap Kipps?"
"This chap in my play—man who kisses the girl."
"Never kissed a girl," said Kipps; "leastways—" and subsided for a space. He could not remember whether he had kissed Ann or not—he knew he had
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