And, when I have seen him pining away before my eyes, getting thinner and thinner every day, I have sometimes thought my prayers were heard. His salvation—if there was to be any—lay in her ignorance of life. 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. But in this posture he fared worse than ever. Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess. Fortescue’s steps, and encountered him with an air of artless surprise.
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