“Show me around you house, John. 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. Distress like hers might palliate far greater offences than she ever committed. “How could he call except in your absence, as you are never at home in the afternoon. The tiles lay a foot thick in the road. We two just love each other—the real, identical other—all the time. ” Ann Veronica read this letter through with grave, attentive eyes.
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