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148
The Diary of a Nobody
·
George Grossmith Weedon Grossmith
26
There
was
a
roar
of
laughter,
which
was
immediately
checked
when
people
found
that
we
had
really
hurt
ourselves.
A
gentleman
assisted
Carrie
to
a
seat,
and
I
expressed
myself
pretty
strongly
on
the
danger
of
having
a
plain
polished
floor
with
no
carpet
or
drugget
to
prevent
people
slipping.
The
gentleman,
who
said
his
name
was
Darwitts,
insisted
on
escorting
Carrie
to
have
a
glass
of
wine,
an
invitation
which
I
was
pleased
to
allow
Carrie
to
accept.
I
followed,
and
met
Farmerson,
who
immediately
said,
in
his
loud
voice
“Oh,
are
you
the
one
who
went
down?”
I
answered
with
an
indignant
look.
With
execrable
taste,
he
said:
“Look
here,
old
man,
we
are
too
old
for
this
game.
We
must
leave
these
capers
to
the
youngsters.
Come
and
have
another
glass,
that
is
more
in
our
line.”
Although
I
felt
I
was
buying
his
silence
by
accepting,
we
followed
the
others
into
the
supper-room.
Neither
Carrie
nor
I,
after
our
unfortunate
mishap,
felt
inclined
to
stay
longer.
As
we
were
departing,
Farmerson
said:
“Are
you
going?
if
so,
you
might
give
me
a
lift.”
I
thought
it
better
to
consent,
but
wish
I
had
first
consulted
Carrie.
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