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. "Oh, Heavens!" cried Mrs. \"God, it's too curly for a brush. ” “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” He accused. She turned up dead after about eight weeks and it broke my heart. Into this new world, vivid with colour, came Spurlock, receptively. Thank him, not me, man. How did you meet him?’ ‘He was wounded and came to the convent for sanctuary,’ Melusine told him, stung by his criticism into revealing more than she had intended. They were on their way back home, or so she had thought. F.
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