” “Annabel! Annabel!” Annabel stamped her foot. This incredible scene robbed him of the sense of locomotion. 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. "Take it," cried Wood, holding the infant towards her; "take it, and fly. "Begone! or I fire!" he cried. Soho! boys. The knight mechanically complied with his request. "Von't you hear me?—ough! ough!" demanded Sharples, after a pause. Lucy’s cool. “For men have reason, women rhyme A man scores always, all the time.
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