’ ‘The what, miss?’ asked Kimble, frowning. Perhaps in two or three weeks. Too late. 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 will not believe any of my very clever lies. Then, presto! What a dreary lot they are when the revellers lay aside the motley! Ruth had come from a far South Sea isle. You are too credulous. " "Ah, yes; that coat. “I thought that I heard a groan,” Anna whispered. " "What's that?" asked Wood with some curiosity.
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