But it is one thing to drink, and another to drown in gin--that's an entirely different matter.

Noni--you are like a drowned man, simply like a corpse.

I feel ashamed for your sake, Noni.

I shall drink now and--" He rises, and staggering, finds an unopened bottle and drinks.
"A fine wind.

They call this a storm--do you hear, Noni?
They call this a storm.