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. She had a gold watch, a very good gold watch that had been her mother’s, a pearl necklace that was also pretty good, some unpretending rings, some silver bangles and a few other such inferior trinkets, three pounds thirteen shillings unspent of her dress and book allowance and a few good salable books. And you see, I don’t turn my back, and I am looking at you and thinking about you from top to toe. And that confounded engagement!” “Gone!” They came upon a platform, and stood before her compartment. ” “It is Number 8, Cavendish Square,” she answered simply. It was an excuse, dredged up on the spur of the moment to cover a slip. “He ran some Austrian fellow off. Though they do, in secret, I believe. ” “You were in a difficult position,” Mr.
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