"Don't you worry about me; I'm all right. What I want to say is, lend me your keys; I can't go home this way—lend me your keys and I'll go to your rooms and sleep it off."
"All right, Marsh; think you can get there?"
"Of course; I'm all right."
"And you'll go there if I give you my keys—you'll go nowhere else?"
"Of course I won't, Andy!"
"You won't stop to talk with any one?"
"Who'll I find to talk with at this time of the night?" laughed the drunken man derisively. "It's three o'clock! Say, Andy, who'll I find to talk to?"
"By God, I hope no one, you fool!" muttered Gilmore.
"Well, give me the keys, Andy. I'll go along and get to bed, and I want you to forget this conversation—"
"Oh, I'll forget it all right, Marsh—but you won't after you come to your senses!" he added under his breath.