"Try!" Enraged at the assurance of his mistress, the woollen-draper endeavoured to carry his threat into execution, but all his efforts to remove her were unavailing. One doesn’t want to lose a grain. Anywhere! Moonlight and music—pleasing, you know, but quite unnecessary. "Now, give me the woollen cloth to tie round my fetters," whispered Sheppard. 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. And then I'll pay off old scores. What would he come as? Presently she roused herself with a guilty start from the task of dressing and re-dressing Mr. Drowning, her brain dizzy, Melusine clung to the source of the flooding warmth, her hands, no longer forcibly held, moving without will about the firm back.
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