Potter appeared again upon the threshold In one hand he held a
large goblet; in the other a bottle of Bourbon whiskey, just
opened. With solemn tread he approached a delicate table, set
the goblet upon it, and lifted the bottle high above.

"I am in no condition to talk to anybody," he said hoarsely. "I
am about to take my first drink of spirits in five years."

And he tilted the bottle. The liquor clucked and guggled,
plashed into the goblet, and splashed upon the table; but when
he set the bottle down the glass was full to its capacious brim,
and looked, upon the little "Louis Sixteenth" table, like a sot
at the Trianon. Potter stepped back and pointed to it
majestically.

"That," he said, "is the size of the drink I am about to take!"

"Mr. Potter," said Canby hotly, "will you tell me what's the
matter with my play? Haven't I made every change you suggested?
Haven't--"

Potter tossed his arms above his head and flung himself full
length upon the chaise lounge.

"STOP it!" he shouted. "I won't be pestered. I won't! Nothing's
the matter with your play!"

"Then what--"

Potter swung himself round to a sitting position and hammered