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 winter had turned sea and sky to a wet gray. He panted for a moment with unuttered replies, and then, with a scornful gesture, got up and left the cell. “What do we want? What is the goal?” asked Ann Veronica. I didn’t allow myself to see things as they were in those days; now I do. ” Lucy said, frowning.
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