Where's the dining room? And, say, can I have some eggs? This jam-tea breakfast gets my goat. “You be off, missie,” said the fatherly policeman. In the first place there were not so many suitable advertisements as she had expected. “What ought she to do?” “Suppose you—” “Yes, suppose I—” He felt that his advice was being asked. But never would any so dishonour himself as to hand a fellow rogue over to the authorities. 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. Ray did not pace, he just stood.
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