But, it can't be helped. ’ ‘It is you who is absurd,’ countered Melusine, the spark returning to her eye. “I’m damned if I’ll believe it,” he muttered to himself savagely. He introduced her as his \"friend\" Lucy. Stanley admired and detested him in almost equal measure. He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man. A pair of startled blue eyes looked up into his. 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.
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