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1
148
The Diary of a Nobody
·
George Grossmith Weedon Grossmith
81
I
did
not
desire
the
last
day
to
wind
up
disagreeably,
so
I
said
nothing
to
either
Carrie
or
Lupin
about
the
letter.
A
most
terrible
fog
came
on,
and
Lupin
would
go
out
in
it,
but
promised
to
be
back
to
drink
out
the
Old
Year—
a
custom
we
have
always
observed.
At
a
quarter
to
twelve
Lupin
had
not
returned,
and
the
fog
was
fearful.
As
time
was
drawing
close,
I
got
out
the
spirits.
Carrie
and
I
deciding
on
whisky,
I
opened
a
fresh
bottle;
but
Carrie
said
it
smelt
like
brandy.
As
I
knew
it
to
be
whisky,
I
said
there
was
nothing
to
discuss.
Carrie,
evidently
vexed
that
Lupin
had
not
come
in,
did
discuss
it
all
the
same,
and
wanted
me
to
have
a
small
wager
with
her
to
decide
by
the
smell.
I
said
I
could
decide
it
by
the
taste
in
a
moment.
A
silly
and
unnecessary
argument
followed,
the
result
of
which
was
we
suddenly
saw
it
was
a
quarter-past
twelve,
and,
for
the
first
time
in
our
married
life,
we
missed
welcoming
in
the
New
Year.
Lupin
got
home
at
a
quarter-past
two,
having
got
lost
in
the
fog—
so
he
said.
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