He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe. ’ ‘Don’t count on it. She realized more and more the quality of the brink upon which she stood—the dreadful readiness with which in certain moods she might plunge, the unmitigated wrongness and recklessness of such a self-abandonment. During all their long comradeship he had never so much as ventured to hold her fingers. ” She looked at him wistfully, but with some unwilling doubt in her wrinkled forehead. "He'll not trouble you on the liquor side, Mac.
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