Page:The plastic age, (IA plasticage00mark).pdf/253



CHAPTER XXI
FOR the first term Hugh slid comfortably down a well oiled groove of routine. He went to the movies regularly, wrote as reg¬ ularly to Cynthia and thought about her even more, read enormous quantities of poetry, “bulled” with his friends, attended all the athletic contests, played cards occasionally, and received his daily liquor from Vinton. He no longer protested when Vinton offered him a drink; he accepted it as a matter of course, and he had almost completely forgotten that “smoking was n’t good for a runner.” He had just about decided that he was n’t a runner, anyway.

One evening in early spring he met George Winsor as he was crossing the campus.

“Hello, George. Where are you going?”

“Over to Ted Allen’s room. Big poker party to¬ night. Don’t you want to sit in?”

“You told me last week that you had sworn off poker. How come you ’re playing again so soon?” Hugh strolled lazily along with Winsor.

“Not poker, Hugh—craps. I’ve sworn off craps for good, and maybe I ’ll swear off poker after to¬ night. I’m nearly a hundred berries to the good Rh