This preview shows page 1. Sign up to view the full content.
Unformatted text preview: nts had been taken off and put back on and badly fastened. Oh, so we'd had some woman or man, had we? And what else did we catch, I'd like to know? I took the fresh glass of absinthe and drank it down, and stood up and nearly fell over. My ankle was sore. I had blood on my knuckles. "We've been fighting?" I managed to make it to my rooms in the Rue Dumaine. My servant, Christian, was there, a man of color, a Mayfair by blood, very well-paid, very smart, and often very sarcastic. I asked if my bed was ready, and he said in his usual way, "What do you think?" I fell into it. I let him pull off my clothes and take them away. I asked for a bottle of wine. 303 "You've had enough." "Get me the wine," I said, "or I will climb up off this bed ani strangle you till you die." He got the wine. "Get out," I said. He did. I lay in the dark drinkin; and trying to remember what I had done . . . the street, the drunke] whoozy feeling, voices coming at m...
View Full Document
This note was uploaded on 02/20/2010 for the course WRITING 220.200 taught by Professor Julie during the Spring '10 term at Johns Hopkins.
- Spring '10