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CHAPTER XXIII. . ’ Gerald tutted. "Poor fellow! I'm glad he has escaped. Anna leaned over so that he needed only to whisper. "But what, may I ask, arouses the thought?" The doctor was in high good humour. ‘You have something more to tell me?’ Jack grinned. He couldn't be in better hands than those in which he has placed 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. The doorbell tinkled and Michelle grabbed her purse and rushed down the creaky wooden stairs. “Both!” said Ann Veronica.
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