It was 1582. 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. It was Jack, wasn’t it?’ ‘Aye, s-sir. Traversing what remained of Wych Street at a rapid pace, and speeding along Drury Lane, the trio soon found themselves in Kendrick Yard. ‘You’ve found her out?’ ‘Tell us at once,’ urged Miss Froxfield. ’ For the space of half a minute, Gerald continued to scowl in silent frustration. " "I agree to that. A friend of mine, Ogilvy’—I suppose that’s Ogilvy & Ogilvy, who do so many divorces, Vee?—‘was speaking very highly of it—very highly!’” He smiled into her eyes. A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter. ‘Well, this maid,’ went on Kimble eagerly, ‘and me, we gets to talking, see, and that’s how I knew he were off to this party. A sea voyage under sail will be the making of him. It was common name, so I was thrown off the scent. “Enter Sir John, very honest, very much in love with me. Maggot, kissing her hand to him.
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