Just
recollected our social reputation--long may she wave--in time."
"_Your_ reputation certainly won't be unblemished if any one saw you
come in in that condition," she cried, in angry mortification. "Surely
you could find something better to do than to get drunk."
"I'm going straight to bed, little person," he returned. "Scold not,
nor fret. William will be himself again ere yet the morrow's sun shall
clear the horizon. Let us avoid recrimination. The tongue is, or
would seem to be, the most vital weapon of modern society. Therefore
let us leave the trenchant blade quiescent in its scabbard. _I'd_
rather settle a dispute with my fists, or even a gun. Good night."
He made his unsteady way to their extra bedroom, and he was still there
with the door locked when Hazel returned from a card party at the
Krones'. It was the first night they had spent apart since their
marriage, and Hazel was inclined to be huffed when he looked in before
breakfast, dressed, shaved, and smiling, as if he had never had even a
bowing acquaintance with John Barleycorn. But Bill refused to take her
indignation seriously, and it died for lack of fuel.
A week or so later he became suddenly and unexpectedly active.
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