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. “La belle ‘Alcide,’ wasn’t it? Annabel Pellissier was her real name. ‘Dreadfully untidy, is it not? Can’t abide bare rooms. Tell me where the fellow Hill took you for this marriage ceremony. He turned, expecting to see his wife. “Forgive my coming in,” she said to Ennison.
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