“Bit thick on the old man, isn’t it?” said Roddy, who had developed a bluff, straightforward style in the motor shop. It was not the type of household where one could come and go at all hours, for this she was glad. ‘Seems to me, missie, as you’re as dangerous a female as I’m like to see. 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. ’ Jack blinked.
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