"Really?" The woman by now had closed her book and was giving him
her full attention, responding to some respectful quality in his
tone that robbed his frankness of offence. "How did it happen?"

"Well, to be perfectly honest, I got drunk--just plain drunk. I
didn't think so at the time, understand, for I'd never been the
least bit that way before. Hope I don't shock you?"

His new acquaintance shrugged her shoulders. "I have seen
something of the world; I'm not easily shocked."

"Well, I was perfectly sober the last I remember, and then I woke
up on the Santa Cruz. I'd never even heard the name before."

"And hadn't you intended taking an ocean trip?"

"Good Lord, no! I had just bought a new French car and was going
to drive it up to New Haven yesterday. It's standing out on Forty-
fifth Street now, if somebody hasn't stolen it. Gee! I can see the
news-boys cutting their monograms in those tires."

"How remarkable!"

"You see, it was a big night--football game, supper, and all that.
I remember everything up to a certain point, then--curtain! I was
'out' for twelve hours, and SICK!--that's the funny part; I'm
still sick." He shook his head as if at a loss what to make of
this phenomenon. He noted how the woman's countenance lighted at
even a passing interest, as he continued: "What I can't understand