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 see,” she said, very gently, “I AM going. She stole a few glances at John as she stood and played the pieces. I suppose I believe in God. Stanley, and went into his study. Presently he resumed: “I believe I must be in love.
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