Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess. ’ As if to bear her out, the door opened at this precise moment to admit Saling, who barely announced Captain Roding before the man himself strode into the room. 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. Their talk drifted to the beauty of music, and they took that up again at tea-time. " "A very sufficient reason," answered the jailer. "Gone," replied the wounded man. That’s who you ought to go and see, miss. She thought me— filthy.
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