Dolly, _I can
get used to almost anything_. Nothing makes much difference to me
nowadays--only I like to play cards. Look here!" he went on, laying out
the notice from the bank upon the table, "this came to-day. You see what
it is! I sold the old house on California Street. Well, I've gambled
away that money in less than a year. It seems that I'm a financial ruin
now, but"--and he began to laugh--"I live through it somehow. The news
didn't prevent me from getting drunk to-night."
After young Haight was gone, Vandover went to bed, turning out the gas
and drawing down the window half-way from the top. The wine had made him
sleepy; he was dropping away into a very grateful doze when a sudden
shock, a violent leap of every nerve in his body, brought him up to a
sitting posture, gasping for breath, his heart fluttering, his hands
beating at the empty air. He settled down again, turning upon his
pillow, closing his eyes, very weary, longing for a good night's sleep.
Dolly Haight's terrible story, his unjustified fate, and the hopeless
tragedy of it, came back to him.
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