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. You sent back my Christmas checks. She opened one and found herself in a large untidy room set with chairs that were a little disarranged as if by an overnight meeting. “I’d give anything,” he remarked, “to see our little Vee happily and comfortably married. Evidently Ah Cum's luck had held good. I have done n-nothing. I was ready to wager that your name would have marched with one of them. Everything was done in a genteel and ordinary way, but on the other hand, there was no lingering.
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