When he returned from
pissing, he sat down with her. "You've given him a broken head, I
perceive. “Get me someone, Oracle. But Blueskin was not to be silenced. “Concern me!” she repeated fiercely. "Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it. 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.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 29-06-2024 20:56:54