disturbed over the future of her brood.

I left him and went down into the wine room and ordered a stiff brandy
and soda. When that disappeared I ordered another. I rattled the ice
in the glass. "Ha, ha, ha!" I roared, as the events of the past
twenty-four hours recurred to me. There must have been a suicidal
accent to my laughter, for the bartender looked at me with some
concern. I called for another brandy and shot the soda into it myself.
I watched the foam evaporate, "Ha, ha, ha!"

"Hard luck?" the bartender asked sympathetically.

"Yes," said I. I seemed to be speaking to several bartenders who
looked at me with several varieties of compassion.

"Have another on me," said the bartender.

I had another, and went out into the street. I walked down Broadway,
chuckling to myself. What a glorious farce it all was! My fortune!
Phyllis my wife! What if she had accepted me? I laughed aloud, and
people turned and stared at me. Oh, yes! I was to travel and write
novels and have my pictures in book reviews, and all that! When I
arrived at the office I was on the verge of total insanity. I was
obliged to ask the paragrapher to write my next day's leader. It was
night before I became rational, and once that, the whole world donned
cap and bells and began capering for my express benefit. The more I
thought of it, the more I laughed. What a whimsical world it was! And
was there anything in it so grotesque as my part? I took the check
from my pocket and cracked it between my fingers. A cigar was in my
mouth. Should I light it with the check? It was for $1,000. After