As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. By a tacit agreement they ignored the significant thing between them, ignored the slipping away of the ground on which they had stood together hitherto. There was nothing left now of the selfassured, prosperous man of affairs. I’ll drive you home once my buzz goes away. Oh, cuss it!” “Eh?” “He said I would. Time enough for Gosse to shut her mouth forever, as he did not hesitate to point out to her.
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