Page:Restless Earth.djvu/170

Patricia had enjoyed her share of youthful parties, and had experienced the exhilarations which alcohol brings when taken sparingly. Now she experienced drunkenness and was ashamed. She tried to rouse herself, but the effort made her feel worse. Perhaps if she lay still for a little while the whirlings in her brain would stop.

Twice she opened her eyes and stared fixedly at the gyrating ceiling in order to overcome the nausea induced by the sensation of falling over backwards into a bottomless pit; then the voices of the knights receded into the distance, and she slept.

She was shaken to wakefulness by Baden.

“Come on, old thing,” he was saying. “Time to wind the cat and put the clock out.”

Patricia blinked at George, who was rubbing his ankle, and then at the clock over the fire-place.

The time was almost half-past eleven.

“Good Heavens!” she exclaimed, sitting up and swaying a little. “Have I been sleeping?”

“I trust so,” answered Baden. “Otherwise you must have heard the shocking language of George when you kicked him in your dreams.”

Patricia flushed with shame, but managed a lop-sided smile.

“I’m awfully sorry,” she apologised.

“Quite all right, Pat,” grinned George. “I guess you thought I was Jimmy and forgot you had your shoes on.”

“And what about introducing Little Grace some day ?” chuckled Baden. “The name rather takes our fancy. Sweet and old-fashioned.”

“Lavender and old lace,” chimed George.

Patricia, inexpressibly shocked to know that she had spoken of her sins to these hardened philanderers, rose to her feet and moved to the stairs as steadily as she might.

“I think I’ll go to bed,” she said shakily. “Thanks so much for a jolly evening. I’m afraid I made rather an ass of myself———”