How old are you?’ ‘I have nineteen years, and it is quite unimportant. She had intended to be quietly dignified, but he was in a smouldering rage from the beginning, and began by assuming, which alone was more than flesh and blood could stand, that the insurrection was over and that she was coming home submissively. You were dying and your baby along with you. 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. ’ ‘Ain’t it? Want me to give you some time with her? Not that I think she’ll tell you anything. Things got hot and heavy in the car the next night, and he peeled off her skirt and top to reveal her underwear.
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