The open windows were above them now and, unless the intruder were to lean out, they could not possibly be seen. 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. The future Mrs Roding turned bright, laughing eyes on the major. The swelling in his limbs had also subsided. Her teeth were chattering so hard that she had to clench them for fear of biting off her own tongue. They drove rapidly through the emptying streets. "You lie!" Head down, fists doubled, Spurlock rushed: only to be met with a kick which was intended for the groin but which struck the thigh instead. John stared palely.
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