“And to-night we are friends?” “We are friends,” said Ann Veronica, and drew her hand quickly away from 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. To the practised eye of the waterman matters wore a very different air. The manager, however, who stood in the wings, nodded to her to proceed, and the orchestra commenced the first few bars of the music. They got on wonderfully well together. The flat was apparently empty.
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