. ” “And what do you think I ought to do?” “Exactly!” He lifted a paper-weight and dabbed it gently down again. . 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. The bump was coarse and didn’t feel right. Let—it—fall. That same adventurousness that had already buoyed her through crises that would have overwhelmed any normally feminine girl with shame and horror now became uppermost again. ’ ‘We had other matters on hand this morning,’ Roding told him sharply.
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