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Confessions of an English Opium-Eater by Thomas De Quincey
page 38 of 113 (33%)

Lord D--- placed before me a most magnificent breakfast. It was really
so; but in my eyes it seemed trebly magnificent, from being the first
regular meal, the first "good man's table," that I had sate down to for
months. Strange to say, however, I could scarce eat anything. On the
day when I first received my 10 pound bank-note I had gone to a baker's
shop and bought a couple of rolls; this very shop I had two months or six
weeks before surveyed with an eagerness of desire which it was almost
humiliating to me to recollect. I remembered the story about Otway, and
feared that there might be danger in eating too rapidly. But I had no
need for alarm; my appetite was quite sunk, and I became sick before I
had eaten half of what I had bought. This effect from eating what
approached to a meal I continued to feel for weeks; or, when I did not
experience any nausea, part of what I ate was rejected, sometimes with
acidity, sometimes immediately and without any acidity. On the present
occasion, at Lord D-'s table, I found myself not at all better than
usual, and in the midst of luxuries I had no appetite. I had, however,
unfortunately, at all times a craving for wine; I explained my situation,
therefore, to Lord D---, and gave him a short account of my late
sufferings, at which he expressed great compassion, and called for wine.
This gave me a momentary relief and pleasure; and on all occasions when I
had an opportunity I never failed to drink wine, which I worshipped then
as I have since worshipped opium. I am convinced, however, that this
indulgence in wine contributed to strengthen my malady, for the tone of
my stomach was apparently quite sunk, and by a better regimen it might
sooner, and perhaps effectually, have been revived. I hope that it was
not from this love of wine that I lingered in the neighbourhood of my
Eton friends; I persuaded myself then that it was from reluctance to ask
of Lord D---, on whom I was conscious I had not sufficient claims, the
particular service in quest of which I had come down to Eton. I was,
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