Until he felt a sharpness digging into his coat at the point of his heart. 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. “We always have things out with OUR father, poor dear!” said Hetty. Wild allowed you to have your fine clothes again, or you might have been taken in a still more disgraceful garb.
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