Of course he denies it; but it really doesn't matter, as I'm sorry to say he's much too 'fresh' (as they call it down here) to remember anything to-morrow morning.

I let him have it, I can tell you.

Varlet! Caitiff! But if you bolt off on the head of it, I shall go back and sack him into the bargain!" I assured him I had my own reasons for wishing to retire early.

He could have no conception of my weakness, my low and nervous condition of body and mind; much as I had enjoyed myself, he must really let me go.
Another glass of wine, then?
Just one more?
No, I had drunk too much already.

I was in no state to stand it.