"Have a moment's patience, Sir Rowland," returned Wild; "and you shall hear. While this took place, while Quilt thundered at the inner door, and Jack drew back the bolts of the outer, a deep, manly voice was heard chanting—as if in contempt of the general uproar—the following strain:— With pipe and punch upon the board, And smiling nymphs around us; No tavern could more mirth afford Than old Saint Giles's round-house! The round-house! the round-house! The jolly—jolly round-house! "The jolly, jolly round-house!" chorussed Sheppard, as the last bar yielded to his efforts. "There is nobody else. Now she knew why the soldiers had not caught him. Girls screamed in chorus. And from that they came back by way of the Kreutzer Sonata and Resurrection to Tolstoy again.
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