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. She dropped the locket into its sweet hiding place. ‘Come, I am concerned merely for your safety, you know. The windows which were about nine feet from the floor, had no glass; but were secured by thick iron bars, and an oaken beam. ‘Even the nuns they say I am like a devil. These were his mistresses, Poll Maggot and Edgeworth Bess. “The conventions do not matter one little bit.
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