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. His mind was filled briefly with psychic images of a charnel house that danced like a spider in his head. She tried to appear as if she had never been questioned before. " "Everything. But as the mystery which surrounded Ruth fell away that which enveloped her father thickened. " "You are interested?" "In a way, naturally. And I think also that Gosse—I mean that one who calls himself Valade—stole it. I’ll try to stay as long as I can. Go to her and tell her.
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