He was not used to not getting his way. ” “How can you say such things?” “But he would!” “Still, it isn’t your place to say so. 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. A young man —almost a boy, slight, dark, and with his brother’s deep grey eyes—came across the room to her.
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