He stopped short of a group of adolescent saplings and turned the ignition off. 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. ” She could not go on, for she was laughing and crying at the same time. He knew it absolutely, as if he had the check in his hand. ‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket.
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