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" "I didn't suspect you of so much superstition, Mr. ‘Pray you, mademoiselle, can you not—’ ‘No use trying to enlist Lucilla’s aid,’ snapped Roding. —Though if my name should become as famous as theirs, it wouldn't much matter. " She kindled with sympathy. “She will take her risk,” she answered. ‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. I do not wish that the soldiers there will see it shine. " And he struck up the following ballad:— SAINT GILES'S BOWL.
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