I have to acknowledge my indebtedness to the illuminating study in heredity of Dr. Archdall Reed, M.B., C.M., F.R.S.E. His book "Alcoholism" ought to be read by every temperance reformer in Europe and America.
"The Drink Problem," a book published by Messrs. Methuen and written in concert by the greatest experts on the subject of Inebriety, has been most helpful. I have not needed technical help to make my story, but I have found that it gives ample corroboration of protracted investigation and study.
My thanks are due to Mr. John Theodore Tussaud for assistance in the writing of chapter four, book three.
Lastly, I should be ungrateful indeed, if I did not put down my sincere thanks to my secretary Miss Ethel Paczensky for all she has done for me during the making of this tale. The mere careful typewriting, revision and arrangement of a long story which is to be published in America and Europe, requires considerable skill. The fact that the loyal help and sympathy of a young and acute mind have been so devotedly at my service, merits more thanks and acknowledgment than can be easily conveyed in a foreword.
PART I A BOOK OF POEMS ARRIVES FOR DR. MORTON SIMS 3
I UNDER THE WAGGON-ROOF. A DINNER IN BRYANSTONE SQUARE 37
II GRAVELY UNFORTUNATE OCCURRENCE IN MRS. AMBERLEY'S DRAWING ROOM 58
III SHAME IN "THE ROARING GALLANT TOWN" 76
IV LOTHIAN GOES TO THE LIBRARY OF PURE LITERATURE 103
V "FOR THE FIRST TIME, HE WAS GOING TO HAVE A GIRL FRIEND" 121
I VIGNETTE OF EARLY MORNING. "GILBERT IS COMING HOME!" 145
II AN EXHIBITION OF DOCTOR MORTON SIMS AND DOCTOR MEDLEY, WITH AN ACCOUNT OF HOW LOTHIAN RETURNED TO MORTLAND ROYAL 165
III PSYCHOLOGY OF THE INEBRIATE, AND THE LETTER OF JEWELLED WORDS 204
IV DICKSON INGWORTH UNDER THE MICROSCOPE 237
V A QUARREL IN THE "MOST SELECT LOUNGE IN THE COUNTY" 246
VI AN _OMNES_ EXEUNT FROM MORTLAND ROYAL 269
V THE NIGHT JOURNEY FROM NICE WHEN MRS. DALY SPEAKS WORDS OF FIRE 353
VII INGWORTH REDUX: TOFTREES COMPLACENS 394
WHAT OCCURRED AT THE EDWARD HALL IN KINGSWAY 453
A BOOK OF POEMS ARRIVES FOR DR. MORTON SIMS
"How many bards gild the lapses of time A few of them have ever been the food Of my delighted fancy."
The rain came down through the London fog like ribands of lead as the butler entered the library with tea, and pulling the heavy curtains shut out the picture of the sombre winter's afternoon.