’ She tried to shake his hands off her wrists, but Gerald held them fast and tutted at her. The ticket line filtered slowly into the glass doors, growing louder and more boisterous by the minute. She would never, never go back. ‘They cannot be worse than mine in English, monsieur. 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. She laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. Stanley decided to treat that as irrelevant. And then there came for both of them at least a temporary awakening.
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