He knew as well as he what would ease his pain and give him
sleep, but not a finger would he move to save him! He was taking the
meanest of revenges! What did it matter to him what became of his
soul! Surely it was worse to hate as he made him hate than to
swallow any amount of narcotics!
"I tell you, Grant," he said once, "I was never so cruel to those I
treated worst. There's nothing in the Persian hells, which beat all
the rest, to come up to what I go through for want of my comfort.
Promise to give it me, and I will tell you where to find some."
As often as Donal refused he would break out in a torrent of curses,
then lie still for a space.
"How do you think you will do without it," Donal once rejoined,
"when you find yourself bodiless in the other world?"
"I'm not there yet! When that comes, it will be under new
conditions, if not unconditioned altogether. We'll take the world we
have. So, my dear boy, just go and get me what I want. There are the
keys!"
"I dare not."
"You wish to kill me!"
"I wouldn't keep you alive to eat opium. I have other work than
that. Not a finger would I move to save a life for such a life. But
I would willingly risk my own to make you able to do without it.
There would be some good in that!"
"Oh, damn your preaching!"
But the force of the habit abated a little. Now and then it seemed
to return as strong as ever, but the fit went off again.
Pages:
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615