cellaneous people and actors, all deep
in leather chairs, he found some of his friends waiting.
They trooped upstairs to Coleman's rooms, where, as a
preliminary, Coleman began to hurl books and papers from the
table to the floor. A boy came with drinks. Most of the men,
in order to prepare for the game, removed their coats and
cuffs and drew up the sleeves of their shirts. The electric
globes shed a blinding light upon the table. The sound of
clinking chips arose; the elected banker spun the cards,
careless and dextrous."

The atmosphere of the entire novel is just that close and
enervating. Every page is like the next morning taste of a champagne
supper, and is heavy with the smell of stale cigarettes. There is no
fresh air in the book and no sunlight, only the "blinding light shed
by the electric globes." If the life of New York newspaper men is as
unwholesome and sordid as this, Mr. Crane, who has experienced it,
ought to be sadly ashamed to tell it. Next morning when Coleman went
for breakfast in the grill room of his hotel he ordered eggs on
toast and a pint of champagne for breakfast and discoursed affably
to the waiter.

"May be you had a pretty lively time last night, Mr.
Coleman?"

"Yes, Pat," answered Coleman. "I did. It was all because of
an unrequitted affection, Patrick." The man stood near, a
napkin over his arm. Coleman went on impressively. "The ways
of the modern lover are strange. Now, I, Patrick, am a
modern lover, and when, yesterday, the dagger of
disappointment was driven deep into my heart, I immediately
played poker as hard as I could, and incidentally got
loaded. This is the modern point of view. I understand on
good authority that in old times lovers used to languish.
That is probably a lie, but at any rate we do not, in these
times, languish to any great extent. We get drunk. Do you
understand Patrick?"

The waiter was used to a harangue at Coleman's breakfast
time. He placed his hand over his mouth and giggled.
"Yessir."

"Of course," continued Coleman, thoughtfully. "It might be
pointed out by uneducated persons that it is difficult to
maintain a high standard of drunkenness for the adequate
length of time, but in the series of experiments which I am
about to make, I am sure I can easily prove them to be in
the wrong."

"I am sure, sir," said the wa