The most grievous part
was the eating and the drinking. I was born with a
dainty tooth and a palate for wine; and only a genuine
devotion to romance could have supported me under the
cat-civets that I had to swallow, and the red ink of
Bercy I must wash them down withal. Every now and
again, after a hard day at the studio, where I was
steadily and far from unsuccessfully industrious, a
wave of distaste would overbear me; I would slink away
from my haunts and companions, indemnify myself for
weeks of self-denial with fine wines and dainty dishes;
seated perhaps on a terrace, perhaps in an arbour in a
garden, with a volume of one of my favourite authors
propped open in front of me, and now consulted a while,
and now forgotten: so remain, relishing my situation,
till night fell and the lights of the city kindled; and
thence stroll homeward by the river-side, under the
moon or stars, in a heaven of poetry and digestion.
One such indulgence led me in the course of my second
year into an adventure which I must relate: indeed, it
is the very point I have been aiming for, since that
was what brought me in acquaintance with Jim Pinkerton.
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