This much Mr. Wrenn saw. Then he set himself to the hard task
of listening to Charley, who was muttering:
"Back quick, ain't you, ol' Wrenn? You come up to see me,
didn't you? You're m' friend, ain't you, eh? I got an awful
hang-over, ain't I? You don't care, do you, ol' Wrenn?"
Mr. Wrenn stared at him weakly, but only for a minute.
Perhaps it was his cattle-boat experience which now made
him deal directly with such drunkenness as would have
nauseated him three months before; perhaps his attendance
on a weary Istra.
"Come now, Charley, you got to buck up," he crooned.
"_All_ ri'."
"What's the trouble? How did you get going like this?"
"Wife left me. I was drinking. You think I'm drunk, don't you?
But I ain't. She went off with her sister--always hated me. She
took my money out of savings-bank--three hundred; all money I had
'cept fifty dollars. I'll fix her. I'll kill her. Took to
hitting the booze. Goglefogle fired me. Don't care. Drink all
I want. Keep young fellows from getting it! Say, go down and
get me pint.
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