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. ‘Come on, Hilary. It did not shock her; it amazed her, interested her beyond measure. I have no intention of arresting you. “Poor Lucy!” Cathy exclaimed as she rushed in the door, umbrella sheathed. The Palazzo was unlike anything she had ever known. She watched, puzzled, as her cavalier frowned at the newcomer, glancing from him to Melusine and back again. Lucy jammed her foot down onto Mark McCloskey’s forehead.
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