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 would believe that life is kindled by the passions alone. . ” She laughed. Had romance to be banished from life?. "We may trust him," he added in a whisper; "he is a staunch friend of the good cause. And then there came for both of them at least a temporary awakening.
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