She hoped fervently that Martin had not divulged his crush to Brown. Gerald’s task was to stop him from doing so. Mrs. "Dear me!" she added, as she pledged the amorous woollen-draper, "what a beautiful ring that is. You see, my riddle is solved. Should it e'er be my lot to ride backwards that way, At the door of the Crown I will certainly stay; I'll summon the landlord—I'll call for the Bowl, And drink a deep draught to the health of my soul! Whatever may hap, I'll taste of the tap, To keep up my spirits when brought to the crap! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of St.
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