The blow was strong enough, sudden enough to penetrate even Vandover’s clouded and distorted wits.  His nerves were gone in a minute, a sudden stupefying numbness fell upon his brain, and the fear of something unknown, the immense unreasoning terror that had gripped him for the first time the morning after Ida Wade’s suicide came back upon him, horrible, crushing, so that he had to shut his teeth against a wild hysterical desire to rush through the streets screaming and waving his arms.

By the time the three friends had reached the restaurant where they were to eat their Thanksgiving dinner, Vandover’s appetite had given place to a loathing of the very smell of food, his nervousness was fast approaching hysteria, the little nerve clusters all over his body seemed to be crisping and writhing like balls of tiny serpents, at intervals he would twitch sharply as though startled at some sudden noise, his breath coming short, his heart beating quick.

They had their dinner in one of the private rooms of the restaurant on the second floor.  All through the meal Vandover struggled to keep himself in hand, fighting with all his strength against this reappearance of his old enemy, this sudden return of the dreadful crisis, determined not to make an exhibition of himself before the others.  He pretended to eat, and forced himself to talk, joining in with Ellis, who was badgering the Dummy about Flossie.  The proper thing to do was to fill the Dummy’s glass while his attention was otherwise absorbed, and in the end to get him so drunk that he could talk.  Toward the end of the dinner Ellis was successful.  All at once the Dummy got upon his feet, his eyes were glazed with drunkenness, he swayed about in an irregular circle, holding up, now by the table, now by the chair-back, and now by the wall behind him.  He was very angry, exasperated beyond control by Ellis’ raillery and abuse.  He forgot himself and uttered a series of peculiar cries very faint and shrill, like the sounds of a voice heard through a telephone when some imperfection of transmission prevents one from distinguishing the words.  His mouth was wide open and his tongue rolled about in an absurd way between his teeth.  Now and then one could catch a word or two.  Ellis went into spasms of laughter, holding his sides, gasping for breath.  Vandover could not help being amused, and the two laughed at the Dummy’s stammering rage until their breath was spent.  Throughout the rest of the evening the Dummy recommenced from time to time, rising unsteadily to his feet, shaking his fists, pouring out a stream of little ineffectual birdlike twitterings, trying to give Ellis abuse for abuse, trying to talk long after it had ceased to amuse the other two.  Ellis had been drinking for nearly six hours, without the liquor producing the slightest effect upon him; long since, the Dummy was hopelessly drunk; and now Vandover, who had been drinking upon an empty stomach, began to grow very