There sat Jack, evidently in the last stage of intoxication, with his collar opened, his dress disarranged, a pipe in his mouth, a bowl of punch and a halfemptied rummer before him,—there he sat, receiving and returning, or rather attempting to return,—for he was almost past consciousness,—the blandishments of a couple of females, one of whom had passed her arm round his neck, while the other leaned over the back of his chair and appeared from her gestures to be whispering soft nonsense into his ear. “This has almost killed your father. I shall give you my life, every moment and thought of my life. His face changed and she saw, with a stab at her heart, the dawning of irritation in his eyes. "What the devil makes you out so late? And what has happened to you, man, eh?—you seem in a queer plight. ’ ‘How can it be in dispute?’ frowned Mrs Sindlesham.
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