She seemed to distil a poison such as no other woman secreted; his veins were so heavy with it that he felt like a man recovering from a long illness.well, I must get up and get home, he thought, and dragged himself unwillingly out of bed. It was not till then that he remembered Chris Chris, who had not come the night before, whose address, like a fool, he had forgotten to take, and who had doubtless given him the slip again. He dressed in a cold rage against himself, against the world and against Chris and was just turning to leave his room when the culprit entered.
He was not the brilliant Chris of the previous night, but a down cast being whose pale face and heavy eyes seemed to reflect Vances own distress. He held out his hand in silence, and Vance asked if he had breakfasted. Chris grimaced a refusal.But a brandy-and-soda? Thanks. Shall I telephone the order? He did so without waiting for the answer; then he threw himself into the one armchair in the room, lit a cigarette, and looked absently about him, as though hardly conscious of Vances presence.Not a bad place youve got here.