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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. Then she dropped the curtain and stepped back into the room. She wished that he would go further as she performed fellatio upon him. Remain at the door, Nab," he added, loitering for a moment behind the others, "and let no one in, or out. ' He muttered it continually. She fluttered it with a trembling hand, averting her eyes from his, and he could hear her uneven breath behind it. “Monsieur admires the poster?” As a rule Sir John treated such advances with cold silence. Manning regarded her thoughtfully for a moment and stroked his mustache. Either she had been seen, or they were seeking the air.
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