One day it was gone. Where can I have heard it!" "Devil knows," rejoined Blueskin. 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. And the door was suddenly thrown open, and the two janizaries felled to the ground by the strong arm of the stalwart robber. Things were thrown here and there, to be taken up, or again cast aside, as the whim arose; while the broken-backed chairs and crazy table bore the marks of many a conflict. He would never be able to compose upon it, but it would serve to produce the finished work. "No," replied Jonathan, "I'll not take you at your word, as regards the latter proposition. That is my real milieu, and one that I am convinced you would not only adorn but delight in. Her disapproval was obvious enough. Now, I'll be getting along.
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