“Don’t come nearer!” she said. I do not even know his name. Don’t, don’t say anything now, not anything. He was like a man beside himself. 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. I wish”— she found she had embarked on a bad sentence—“I wish we needn’t have quarrelled. " "I, a thief?" "Aye; thief, Roundhead and all.
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