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. He’d borne mention of the woman’s name. I've often regretted that I didn't investigate the matter. There are some papers I have to look through to-night—important papers. With a well-simulated unconcern and a heightened color she finished her breakfast. On Tuesday night, she was rather better, and I had left her for a short time, as I thought, asleep on the sofa in the little parlour of which she is so fond —" "Well," exclaimed Jack. " "Dear mother, don't say so," returned Winifred. Priests and princes sought his knowledge of languages and philosophy and wantonly tried to throw themselves into his bed.
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