But pathologically, he is still on the edge. She continued to fan herself. ’ He had abandoned the “sir”, Gerald noted, realising that the footman’s respect for him had dropped sharply. She looked at him as he thrust deeply, his face contorted with pleasure as he watched her riding him. 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.
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