drunk I'm worrying and thinking what a hell of a mess I've made of
things. Th-the minute I'm even sniffing whisky I see everything in a
warm, rosy glow. When I'm not drunk everyone's an enemy; when I'm drunk
they're all jolly good fellows. Marcella, I'm alone on earth, and I
don't want to be."

She sat there, impatient with herself for her ignorance, her hands
clasping and unclasping each other nervously.

"Louis--" she began. She could get no further. "Louis--what's one to do?
You say you're a doctor and understand yourself. It seems to me you've
really a disease, haven't you? Just as much as--as measles?"

"Of course it's a disease! But don't you see how hopeless it is? It's a
disease in which the nurse and the doctor both get the huff with the
patient because he's such a damned nuisance to them! And he, poor devil,
by the very nature of the disease, fights every step of the treatment."

There was a long silence. At last she put her hand on his arm.

"You know you want to be happy, don't you? You say you don't want to be
lonely. That's why you drink the miserable stuff, to make you forget
that you're unhappy and friendless."

"Yes--you do understand, you see," he cried eagerly.

"Well, this is where I'm so puzzled. I'm quite happy, and I always
think people are my friends. What I want to know is what is there inside
us two that's different?"