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. I believe—I believe that I must risk it. James Figg was the most perfect master of self-defence of his day. She saw nothing of their love-making, and came home from her boarding-school in a state of decently suppressed curiosity for Alice’s wedding. If ever he requires my services, he shall find I'm not ungrateful. “Oh my God! You sounded like my Grandma just now! How did you do that?” He asked, shocked.
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