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We've got to get him to care. . Marvel," remarked Shotbolt. She wondered occasionally why his mind needed so much distraction. 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. There was something which chilled even him in the cold impassivity of her features. She is, in her way, a dear. Sheppard in a troubled voice, "that if I lost my child, I should lose all I have left in the world. They had much to talk about, or rather Miss Prudence had.
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