Over here men drink because they are lonely; and when they drink too hard and too long, they wind up on the beach. To-morrow we'll raise our first island. You knew me in Paris. Accordingly, when she arrived at the Shovels, with which, as an old haunt in her bygone days of wretchedness she was well acquainted, instead of entering the principal apartment, which she saw at a glance was crowded with company of both sexes, she turned into a small room on the left of the bar, and, as an excuse for so doing, called for something to drink. Let this be a caution to you in future—with whom, and about what you deal.
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