He read but little, and that chiefly healthy light fiction with chromatic titles, The Red Sword, The Black Helmet, The Purple Robe, also in order “to distract his mind. And, besides, she didn’t just immediately want to make her attempt. Smith, now, being more than half-seas over, became very uproarious, and, claiming the attention of the table, volunteered the following DRINKING SONG. ‘Jacques, where are you hurt?’ But as she asked the question, she saw the wound. It would have been better had he succeeded in murdering her, she thought. It was a gray day in the spring of 1910.
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