Jack's mouth was coarse and large; Darrell's small and exquisitely carved, with the short, proud upper lip, which belongs to the highest order of beauty. It was his mother, and as he gazed on her pallid features and motionless frame, Jack's heart severely smote him. CHAPTER XVII After the Ten Commandments have been spoken, conscience becomes less something inherent than something acquired. No one had lived here since old man Remenham had died some eighteen months ago, for the heir, so it was rumoured, was a relative with property of his own. 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. He was a man tout à fait capable, this Gerald. That is what they call these aristocratic refugees, the English. She did not hear his approach, but continued her occupation without raising her head.
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