His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. ” “Not yet,” he said. ‘Good God!’ uttered Roding. 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. After all, this could never be the black sheep. He had meant to be master of his fate that evening and it had escaped him altogether. In mid-bite, she heard a car door slam that was recognizable. It had been brighter than the rest, for dawn light had come in through high unshuttered casements above the bookshelves. W," said Mr. It is not a dissipated face.
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