Was he, too, on the way to the beach? What a pity! All alone, and none to warn him of the abject wretchedness at the end of Drink. Over here men drink because they are lonely; and when they drink too hard and too long, they wind up on the beach. “You know, my mom caught me smoking once with Missy. The Widow and her Child. On the bench was set a quartern measure of gin, a crust of bread, and a slice of cheese. “We are not going the right way,” she exclaimed. I mentioned sixty, I believe, when I was in Paris, but there are expenses, and just now business is bad. “—but this cannot be. I sit back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my loneliness sweet. The Roof and the Window.
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