That blow made me a thief. She tried to compose her thoughts, to think of the last six months, to steep herself in the calm beauty of the surroundings. As for Mike’s observations on John’s desires to get laid, it was the pot calling the kettle black. 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. . All these interesting objects were carefully arranged, classed, and, as we have said, labelled by the thief-taker. It is in vain to struggle against the arm of fate. Folks don’t like ’em. Come. ’ Melusine bubbled over and warmth rose in Gerald’s chest.
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