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. She's too pretty and unusual. His cigar burnt out between his fingers, and he threw it impatiently away. But that still left the forty pounds!. Drummond, who had been about to speak, refrained. Opening the door, he found it littered with straw, on which he threw himself, and instantly fell asleep. I can assure you, Anna, it will take me years to get decently established.
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