’ ‘Eh bien. 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. It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed, his head in his hands. " "A boy from his shop was here a short time ago. You know not what a wretched guilty thing I am. “Miss Pellissier,” he said, “I don’t understand this change in you. Once a sick sailor drew three pictures for me and set down every stay and brace and sail—square-rigger, schooner, and sloop.
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