It was up to you," said the doctor, coldly using the vernacular.
"How was it up to me?
You all say that! How was it?
I understood that if I cut it out and went up there and let that iron-fisted Irishman slam me around, that I'd come out all right.

And the first little baby-drink I hit began the whole thing again!" "Why did you take it?
You didn't have to." "I wanted it," retorted Quest angrily.
"Not badly enough to make self-control impossible.

That's what you went up there for, to get back self-control.

You got it but didn't use it.

Do you think there is any sort of magic serum Mulqueen or I or anybody under Heaven can pump into you that will render you immune from the consequences of making an alcohol sewer of yourself ?" "I certainly supposed I could come out and drink like a gentleman," said the young man sullenly.
"Drink like a--_what_?
A gentleman?
What's that?
What's drinking like a gentleman?
I don't know what it is.