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. He then said that if she would not obey him in this course she should “never darken his doors again,” and was, indeed, frightfully abusive. Sir John looked about him, and somehow the laugh died away. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern what you can do with this work. He thought he heard a scraping sound as he turned the handle. It was grated and crested with spikes, like that he had just burst open, and thinking it a needless waste of time to force it, he broke off one of the spikes, which he carried with him for further purposes, and then climbed over it.
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