" The woollen-draper made no answer, but hastily starting up, bolted the door. “I shall have to give up biology, anyhow. 168 < 20 > HISTORY OF AN ABDUCTION She had not seen him for hundreds of years. 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. Once she reached the bamboo curtain, clutched at it and tore it down as his arms went around her waist. ‘Will you let be?’ Instead she grasped his hand tighter.
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