"  One  could  forgive  the  Swiss  if  they  were  nice
brutes,  like  the  cows.  But  how  they  drink !  "

A  look  of  disgust  crossed  his  face.
"You  hate  drinking,  don't  you?"  said  Teresa
curiously.  "  Do  you  never,  yourself?  "

"  Never  touch  it.  Why  should  I  ?  Beastly
stuff."

"  I've  noticed  that  you  never  take  any  wine  or
anything.  Is  it  principle?  "

"  No,  just  taste.  Don't  see  any  use  in  mud-
dling one's  brain  further  than  nature  has  already
done  it.  My  mother  died  of  it — drugs  and  things.
Went  quite  off  her  head,  the  last  years  of  her
life — lived  in  the  dark,  like  a  cat.  Not  pleasant."

"  How  oddly  you  English  talk  about  your  rela-
tives !  "  said  Teresa.  "  Now,  if  ice  have  a  person
— not  quite  right — in  the  family,  we  try  to  keep
it  dark."

"Why?  It's  not  your  affair,  after  all,  what
your  relatives  do.  Everybody's  got  some  queer
person  or  other  about."

"  You  see,  people  like  to  muddle  their  heads,"
reflected  Teresa.  "  Some  of  them  have  to  do  it
— some  of  the  best.  A  man,  a  very  clever  one,
once  said  to  me  that  some  sort  of  '  dope '  was


T  H  E     B  O  N  D  301

absolutely  necessary,  when  one  had  once  got  one's
eyes  open.  The  strongest  dope,  he  said,  was  re-
ligion. The  others  were  love,  work,  and  whisky.
