moments he knew better.

He went into the store with a staggering step, and the rank smell of
cheese and salt-pork nauseated him. The room felt very hot and was full
of flies that buzzed in a tormenting cloud round his head. He wanted
quietness and made his way to the dark back office, where he dropped
into a chair.

"Go to the hotel," he ordered the clerk who entered after him. "Tell
Jake to give you a big glass of the special whisky. Be quick, but don't
run and spill the stuff."

The clerk came back in a few minutes, and Keller pulled himself together
when he had drained the glass, though his forehead was damp with sweat.

"Now where's the list of the truck Gascoyne got?" he said. "I'll look it
up."

"Sure you feel all right?" the clerk inquired.

"Get the list," said Keller. "Take that glass away."

He picked up a pen, but put it down when he found his hand shook, and
told the clerk to charge the goods. When the latter had gone, he sat
still for some minutes and then opened a book of accounts. He had
had another warning, sharper than the last, and had better put things
straight while he could. With this object he worked later than usual,
and when he returned to the hotel called Sadie into his private room.
The girl sat down, and he studied her, leaning his elbow heavily on the
table.