I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. There was, in fact, only one clear thought in his fevered brain: he had reached the hotel without falling down. The entrance was concealed between two huge boulders within a clump of trees, and was now so overgrown that no one who did not know of its existence could ever hope to find it. Barring that the Valade fellow had sneaked back. 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. With all your cunning, we're more than a match for you. McClintock. D.
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