It was as much as I could do to prevent him flying out of the house there and then and coming after you. How the deuce did I ever manage to father such a brainless nincompoop? A nun, for God’s sake! A confounded Catholic nun. He was dressed immaculately in a suit of heavy Shantung silk. She bent down. 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. She threw her arms around Rollo's neck and laid her cheek upon the flea-bitten head. ‘And she’s—’ She broke off, a sudden light in her eyes. I thought—the papers said——” “You thought that I was dead,” he interrupted. Sir John felt hot and furious. "If I were your father, young gentleman," returned Jackson, enraged at the interruption, "I'd teach you not to speak till you were spoken to.
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