He was at a loss for when precisely Chastity had come into his room, and how she had managed to get into bed with him without so much as disturbing him in the least. It was quite the conundrum; all he could figure was that he had been so totally blitzed and dead asleep that Chastity might have been loosing close-reefed topsail screeches left and right and raising heaven and hell for all the good it would have done to wake him up. Jack was then struck with the horrid thought that it might all be some extraordinarily lucid dream—in a calm fit of horror he pinched himself directly, and when nothing happened he relaxed.

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