It's worse than serious--it's tragic.
If you could see the wretched place poor Mr.Vane lives in, if you knew how he is wanting for food----" "And drink--is he wanting for that too ?" interposed Gay sarcastically.
Lavinia made no answer.

She thought of Lancelot at the Chapter Coffee House the night before and her face clouded.
"I'll give you a word of advice, Polly.

If you're going to be a nice woman and want to keep your peace of mind, never fall in love with a poet, a playwright or indeed any man who takes his pen in hand for a living." "But, sir--aren't you a poet and don't you write plays ?" "Exactly, and that's why I'm warning you.

_Ex uno disce omnes_, which you may like to know means, we're all tarred with the same brush." "And do you drink too much, sir ?" inquired Lavinia with an engaging simplicity.
"Gad, not oftener than I can help.

But we were talking about falling in love and that has nothing to do with my drinking habits.