“Julian, I don’t know how to put this. ‘Help yourself, Hilary. There were so many things about her which he could not understand. Well, I don't blame you on that ground. "Do not endanger yourself on my account," rejoined his mother. "Because you did not wish to hurt me?" "Yes. It was a clear, lovely, October morning. Think! You could not have done it. 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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