“One of your disgusting cigarettes,” she said. “I don’t see why you smoke them.”
“It’s a beautiful herb,” replied Drew contentedly. “Martin understands it.”
“Of course,” said Martin.
“Will you smoke?” Drew inquired of him, reaching for the case once more.
Martin smiled slowly and shook his head.
“But I can see it in your eyes,” persisted Drew.
Deane looked at Martin excitedly, then turned to the other.
“Please, Drew, don’t ever offer Martin hashish.”
“Ah!” said Drew, slightly amused. “So you know!” Then, taking a long, deep draw on the cigarette, he let the smoke escape in little puffs from his mouth and nose. His attitude became more languorous. The timbre of his voice changed and he sighed. “A quiet night,” he said. “My lovely friends.... You are lovely, aren’t you?” he continued, speaking carefully.