"That's better," he said as the first puff of smoke left Langham's colorless lips.

"So you think you want to know what I mean, eh?
Well, I'm going to take you into my confidence, Marsh, and just remember you can't possibly reach the poker without having me on top of you before you get to it! You were pretty sober for you the afternoon of the murder, not more than half shot, we'll say, but later on when you hunted me up at the McBride house, you were as drunk as you will ever be, and slobbering all sorts of foolishness!" He puffed his cigar in silence for a moment.

Langham's had gone out and he was nervously chewing the end of it.
"What did I say ?" he asked at length.
"Oh, all sorts of damn nonsense.

You're smart enough sober, but get you drunk and you ain't fit to be at large!" "What did I say ?" repeated Langham.
"Better let me forget that," rejoined Gilmore significantly.

"And look here, Marsh, I was sweating blood Saturday when they had Nelson on the stand, but it's clear he had no suspicion that my rooms were occupied on the night of the murder.