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. Emile looked at her, then down, and clearly caught the bright gleam on the floor. She had a vision of policemen, reproving magistrates, a crowded court, public disgrace. He saw rifts in clouds—sunshine. 8. Next instant, Gerald felt his wrist seized in an iron grip.
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