Helen took it from him, and turned to Lane with a half-mocking glance.
"Daren, I remember you never drank," she said.

"Maybe the war made a man of you!...

Will you have a sip of lemonade with a shot in it ?" "No, thank you," replied Lane.
"Didn't you drink over there ?" she queried.
"Only when I had to," he rejoined, shortly.
All of the four dancers partook of a drink of lemonade, strengthened by something from Swann's flask.

Lane was quick to observe that when it was pressed upon Bessy Bell she refused to take it: "I hate booze," she said, with a grimace.

His further impression of Bessy Bell, then, was that she had just fallen in with this older crowd, and sophisticated though she was, had not yet been corrupted.