I love my husband. 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. She should be lifted out of her narrow little life, and it should be all owing to him. ’ ‘I spit on your plan,’ Melusine told him furiously. But I can't consent to the course you would pursue—at least, not till I've given it due consideration. These were less like streets than labyrinths, hewn through an eternal twilight.
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