You are not with the Kent militia, are you?’ ‘West Kent, yes. . "I've just recollected that my husband left a key with me, which he charged me to give you when I could find an opportunity. You desire to know who he was, Sir Rowland. 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. “We have no airs and graces here, and my hat hangs from a peg in the passage. That’s as far as we go. She’s as stubborn as the proverbial mule, and—’ with a sigh that felt wrenched out of him ‘—utterly captivating.
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