Probably his first serious bout with John Barleycorn. “We were good friends in Paris, weren’t we? You made me all sorts of promises, we planned no end of nice things, and then—without a word to any one you disappeared. The remainder of dinner was surreal and stilted. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. Eh bien, we shall see. And I’m off to America, and if my steamer goes to the bottom of the Atlantic I’ll thank the Lord for it.
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